#frankly it’s one of the reasons I don’t draw that much anymore

[housederiva]

I just saw a post about how apparently there’s “this ‘big name fan’ blogger on here threatening to deactivate their tumblr because they’re not getting enough likes/reblogs and not making enough money” in regards to Mass Effect…..

I have never been so happy or content with my little island (this sideblog) as I was when I read that post and realized I have absolutely no idea who the hell they’re talking about

I’m just hanging out chilling and every once in a while I see a cool rock (a post) and I pick it up and wave around (queue it) blissfully unaware of the dark shapes (people who have probably blocked me) swelling underneath the depth of the water

Like how there’s a take two of that bioware favorite poll I made last year going around and I had no idea until I got a few asks (sorry for not answering them) asking if I was mad about it! Why would I be mad about it?!? I don’t care! I’m not in control the poll function on tumblr.com nor who uses it!!

Anyways this was a really long winded way of saying thank you to everyone for most of the time not being freaks in my notes on this sideblog whether that be on a post I make or one I rb from someone else

[lisired]

little do you know

pairing: taeyong x (f) reader

genre/warnings: smut, angst, bffs to fwb to lovers, cheating, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!)

summary: After three years away from Miami, Taeyong is finally ready to return to the city. He left a world behind here, but most importantly, he left you. And being invited on a friendly get-together trip to a beach resort gives him a little too much time to resume unfinished business between you both.

word count: 14.9k

a/n: loosely inspired by don’t make it harder on me by chloe x halle. as always, feedback is appreciated!

Your heart beat for Jung Jaehyun. 

That was what you told yourself, over and over again. You wanted to convince yourself that at some point, you would believe it. After all, how could you not? He was everything any woman could have dreamed of in a man. Handsome, sensual, humorous and vulnerable. 

But he wasn’t Taeyong. 

Darn Taeyong. He left you. For good reason, but that was no excuse for you to linger around. Especially not when you were in a commited relationship with his friend. 

The moment you made it to your room after checking into the seaside resort, you immediately flopped onto the bed. A very large chunk of you wanted to draw away and hide, but you knew better. And an even larger chunk of you wanted to see Taeyong. 

Three years. That was how long you’d waited. If you were being honest, your heart couldn’t take anymore. You missed your best friend. 

Jaehyun came out of the bathroom, half-naked, one might add, and had a good laugh at the sight of you sulking on the bed. “Rise and shine, sleepyhead. We have a long day ahead of us.”

You made a noise of protest and wrapped your arms around one of the pillows tightly. You had little to no problem sharing a bed with Jaehyun. As expected, given you were a couple, though you slept in your own more often than not. 

Even though you had been together for nearly three years, Jaehyun hadn’t moved in with you or vice versa. It would seem that you and Jaehyun were very compatible. For one, both of you made your preference to take things slow very clear. Neither of you had been in a rush to move in with each other. Regardless, you’d slept in the same bed before, because you were comfortable. But you knew you weren’t ready for the next step, and Jaehyun never pushed you, because frankly, neither was he. 

Deep in your heart, you knew Jaehyun was more like a good friend to you than a lover. 

You heaved out a breath. “Do I have to?”

“Yes. Everyone will be expecting you. This is one of those rare moments where everyone will be together in one place. Do you know how hard it is to get Ten to stop moving?” Jaehyun joked, moving over to the bed to separate you from the pillow, much to your discontent. 

But you didn’t argue, because he was right and you knew it. You gave a wistful smile. Aging came with a vicious price, and for your friends, time was the luxury you couldn’t afford. Each of you had lives of your own, but no matter where you were, your friendship still stood strong. 

“Fine,” you grumbled, rolling out of bed and fishing through your suitcase. It contained a week’s worth of clothes - including swimsuits. 

Jaehyun snickered and slithered back into the bathroom to give you some privacy. In spite of the many, many times you'd seen each other naked. 

You threw on a bikini and styled yourself a little. Definitely not to impress anyone. Then, you heaved a sigh and let Jaehyun know that you were ready. Maybe even he could tell that you were far from. 

The entire elevator ride downstairs, you could feel your heart pound faster as you watched the numbers drop, indicating what floor you were on. It dinged and opened once you arrived at your destination, and Jaehyun held your hand in his, leading you outside. 

The sweet gesture made it a little easier to breathe, but you were still uneasy. What the hell were you even so scared of? It wasn’t like Taeyong had completely ghosted the hell out of you. The distance made it harder to keep in contact, but he made every effort to talk to you. You were still best friends and no amount of miles between you would change that. 

You just couldn’t get him out of your mind, no matter how hard you tried. No matter how much time had passed, you couldn’t forget the way it felt to be by his side, and you longed to feel that way again. 

No, you hissed to yourself. Taeyong is just your friend. Jaehyun is your boyfriend. You love him. 

And you truly did. But not the way you loved Taeyong. A love like that was irreplicable. 

The moon was on display in the evening sky, bright and full. It mirrored in the water. Strings of neon lights irradiated the beach for miles. There was a large pool squarely between the ocean and the resort and an array of chairs stretched across the sand underneath your feet. 

You were walking towards the group of people surrounding a bonfire at the beach, until you heard someone scream from behind you, “Boo!” 

Jaehyun jumped, your hand still in his, but you screamed as if you wanted your cries to be heard from the opposite end of the ocean. Behind you, the culprit was no other than Rosé. 

Rosé pointed her finger and laughed. “Works like a charm every time.”

You rolled your eyes and pulled her in for a hug. “What happened to saying ‘hi,’ or ‘hello,’” you complained, patting her back. 

She pouted. “I’m sorry, guys.” Then, released you promptly once she’d had her fill to give Jaehyun a turn. 

“What are your plans for the week?” Jaehyun asked, smiling sheepishly.

“Just checking in with my friends and family. As you would expect,” Rosé replied in her familiar aussie accent. Then, she turned to you. “Speaking of which, Taeyong is looking for you.”

You blinked. “Really?”

“Absolutely. He’s over there, all sullen and morose. You should go talk to him.”

Turning to take a peek, you spotted Taeyong by his lonesome at the water. He stood there, simply staring into the distance. Very much sullen and morose. 

Because of me. You bade the thought away with a tiny shake of your head. 

“Will you be okay?” you asked, shifting your glance to Jaehyun. 

Jaehyun didn’t tie you down. “Go. He’s your best friend and it’s been three years. Besides, Rosé and I have a lot to catch up on anyways.”

Rosé gave you an encouraging nod. You gave her one final hug and your boyfriend a brief kiss to cheek before they sent you off. And you blew out a heavy breath as you marched his way. 

It was no secret that when Taeyong left, your relationship - or lack thereof - was on shaky ground. Neither of you ever explained what was happening between you, but even a blind man could tell you were sleeping with each other.

You had wanted more, but Taeyong loathed labels and despised commitment. Frankly, you couldn’t blame him. He watched his parents' marriage crumble before his eyes. He gave his heart to someone and they shattered it into pieces. That was why you never bothered to try to make him yours. You feared rejection like it haunted you every night in your nightmares. 

Foolishly, you had believed the feelings would eventually fade in his absence. But they only grew. No matter who tried to take his place in your heart. 

You slipped beside Taeyong with heavy breath. The air was fresh, but it hardly touched your lungs. He could see your reflection in the water, and turned around to face you before you could get a word in. “Hey.”

“Hi,” you croaked, chiding your heart to calm herself down. 

Taeyong smiled. You saw his eyes twinkle in the moonlight. “Long time no see.”

“Relax. I’ve seen you perfectly fine over FaceTime,” you joked. 

Taeyong rolled his eyes, but smiled and said, “You know it’s not the same. Come here.” 

You immediately crashed into his arms like you couldn’t bear the wait any longer. He was right - it wasn’t the same. You missed the way his embrace warmed you to the core. Taeyong's arms were always where you felt safest. As if no harm could reach you as long as he was there. 

Peering up against his chest, you finally got a good look at him. Was it possible that he looked even better than the last time you saw him three years ago? 

Moonlight nuzzled his skin, making him look even more breathtaking. Its beam lit his sharp features and blond hair. The last time you'd seen it in person, it was black with blue streaks. Keeping Taeyong away from his dye was a Sisyphean task.  

Taeyong - arms in a loop around your waist - asked, “You know what else is different?” 

“What?” 

“I couldn't do this.” 

He offered little to no preparation before you were being tickled mercilessly, sent into a fit of involuntary giggling. Given most of your body was exposed, you were ultimately rendered helpless against his nimble fingers. 

Fighting your way out of his clasp was mission impossible. Taeyong always had ample strength over you, biceps taut with muscle. You could only arduously plead for him to stop, but to no avail, nearly on the verge of tears of laughter. 

Taeyong heaved a pleased sigh and smirked. Needlessly to say, he missed this. “What’s the magic word?”

“Please,” you rasped, fighting for breath. And freedom.

“What’s that?” Taeyong mocked, molding his features as if he sincerely misheard you. “I can’t hear you. You’re laughing too hard.”

Louder, you begged, “Please!”

Taeyong dithered, but ultimately released you from his clutches. You heaved for breath, laughter fading into a smile on your lips as your ribs tensed with every inhale. Playfulness had always been an element of Taeyong’s nature, under the layer of his sober demeanor. Old habits die hard, you thought, melancholy. 

“Too much?” Taeyong asked. 

You shook your head, beaming. “I’m fine. Just out of breath.” 

Taeyong snickered. Of course, you were. Leave it to him to milk your lungs - and stamina - for all that they were worth. 

Taeyong gave you a once-over. With your body so close to his, he couldn’t ignore the way your warmth felt against his bare flesh. And promptly, his eyes fell on your figure. You were still beautiful. Some people deteriorated with age, but never you. It was like you could only become more gorgeous as the days passed. 

You looked the same, but still so different all at once. Perhaps most notably was your eyes. They gleamed, a little sadder than before. He couldn’t help but think that that was because of him. 

Then his eyes fell lower. The bikini you wore complemented your frame a little too goddamn well. Once upon a time, he owned your body. He recalled all those times he made you scream his name for the world to hear. 

Taeyong swiftly swept those memories away. Like hell he would catch a boner at the beach, which would definitely happen the longer he thought about the way you felt around him. Besides, your body didn’t belong to him anymore. And neither did your heart. 

Your heart beat for Jaehyun. 

You cleared your throat. “So, uh - how have you been?”

“I can’t complain,” Taeyong replied, nodding his head. “My grandmother is doing a whole lot better than she was three years ago. The meds have been a great help. As you can see, she’s well enough to go without me again.”

“That’s wonderful news.” You always adored Mrs. Lee. The moment you discovered the ailing condition she was in, your heart hurt for her. 

Taeyong smiled thinly. “It is. It hurt seeing her like that everyday. I was so scared of losing her.”

You nodded in understanding. Above all, you knew that was Taeyong’s greatest fear in general - losing someone he treasured. He had a heart too big for his body. When he received the call from the hospital about his grandmother, Taeyong didn’t hesitate to travel across the globe to take care of her. Even on such short notice. 

The entire trajectory of his life changed with one phone call. He had to drop everything to be there for her. The life he had made for himself here. Even if she didn’t make it, Taeyong knew he had to be there for her in her final moments. 

You both respected and understood the rationale behind his abrupt withdrawal - which Taeyong was endlessly grateful for - but watching him leave wounded you like nothing else. 

You endeavored to fill the void in his absence. That was where Jaehyun came in. You started seeing each other only a few months after Taeyong left for Seoul and began dating not too long after. You liked Jaehyun, but it wasn’t the same. And it wasn’t him; it was you. Regardless of how good a man was to you, none of that mattered if he wasn’t Taeyong. 

Desperately did you want to forget about Taeyong and the way he made you feel. It would have been no use waiting around for him in the first place. He would never let you in. He never did. 

None of that ever happened. When Jaehyun made love to you, you thought of Taeyong. The way his calloused hands felt on your body. How he strung you to orgasm time after time without fail. When Jaehyun took you out on dates, you imagined it was Taeyong spoiling you. You couldn’t shake the thought of him; couldn’t shake the feelings you had for your best friend. 

They said time was the best healer, but you were still head over heels in love with a boy that was too scared to love you back. 

“I missed you, Taeyong,” you admitted in a soft voice. 

Taeyong avoided your eyes, facing the ocean. You did, too. “I missed you, too. It wasn’t easy, you know. Leaving. I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t you dare apologize for doing what you needed to do,” you chastised. “I understand. We would have all done the same thing if we were you. Don’t sweat it.”

“Thank you. I needed to hear that.”

You nudged his side a little. “What are best friends for?” 

That stung like hell. What if he told you that he wanted more than that? 

The two of you talked for a little on the shore, feet dug in the wet sand. You watched the moon wallow in the glistening waters. It served as a rough reminder to you. The way it felt when your body was in one place with one man, but your heart was across the pacific ocean with another. 

Above all, you wished he would have never stolen it from you. 

It became too much after a while and Taeyong made an excuse about neglecting the rest of friends to avoid spending further one-on-one time with you. No one interrupted. Unsurprisingly. The two of you had been closer than ever. They knew better. 

You were a bit hurt, but more so relieved. You felt like you couldn’t breathe next to Taeyong. Joining the rest of your friends felt like a breath of fresh air. 

The ten of you gathered around the bonfire, chatting and catching up. Taeyong wasn't the only one that had come from abroad. Lisa was visiting from Thailand, Rosé had returned from New Zealand, and Ten was… everywhere. A successful career in modeling would do that to you. 

Miami was the heart of your friendship. It was where you had met and where you would always meet again. Most of you were from different places, but it would always be a special spot for your group of friends. And no matter where you were, as long as you were together, you were home. 

After a while, you slipped away to grab a drink from the bar hut. From the distance, you could see Taeyong laughing.

You had gotten so used to loving him from afar. Even when he wasn’t across the ocean, he was still a world away. 

Rosé stole a seat at the barstool beside you, following your gaze. “You missed him, huh?”

For a brief second, your head snapped in her direction. You would never forget what a great friend she was. Easy to confide in, capable of garnering all your secrets in her palm. But this was different. “Of course. I missed you all,” you replied, deliberately straying away from the narrow path she was leading you down. 

Rosé gave you an unconvinced look. “Uh huh. And it has nothing to do with the two of you sleeping with each other?” 

You were borderline affronted she would even ask you that. You glanced away. “That didn’t mean anything. We were just a pair of horny fucks. Taeyong didn’t want anything serious anyways.”

“But did you?” 

You bristled. Curse her. Even in high school, she could always see dead through you. “No,” you lied through your teeth. “Besides, it wouldn’t matter if I did. That was three years ago. I have Jaehyun now.” 

“Love has no expiration date,” Rosé told you, unsparing. You sensed no foul intentions from her, but something about it made you dangerously uneasy. “Some people spend their whole lives hopelessly in love with the same person.”

Your brows furrowed. That’s odd, you thought to yourself. Why was she hell-bent on trying to convince you to admit you had feelings for Taeyong? 

Maybe it was nothing. You and Rosé went way back, as did the rest of the group. There wasn’t a mean bone in her body. 

You’re just overthinking it, you reasoned. Taeyong coming back has you overwhelmed with emotions. 

“I guess,” you said half-heartedly, downing another shot. You’d be damned if you somehow managed to get through the night sober. 

Rosé discerned that you wouldn’t give an inch and stood to her feet, smiling and patting your back gently before she left to regroup with the others. You followed suit. 

For the rest of the evening, you tried your best to stick close to your boyfriend. And away from Taeyong. More than anything, you needed a distraction. The closer you were to him, the more thoughts of your best friend ran rampant in your mind. 

You wanted to forgo every thought of him, but it was significantly easier said than done. It was like everything stopped then suddenly hit you all at once now that he had returned, and you didn’t know how to cope. 

Alcohol had the opposite of the intended effect. You were hyper focused on every tiny detail, noticing even the most mundane things about him. You could have paid your bills with your raw love for Taeyong, but under the influence, it was worth its weight in gold. 

“I’m tired,” you whispered to Jaehyun, patting his arm. “I’m going back to the room. Come back when you’re ready.”

Jaehyun nodded and gave you a swift kiss to the cheek. “Don’t wait up.”

You smiled, bid mostly everyone goodnight, and went on your way. Strangely enough, Taeyong had disappeared in the millisecond that you’d glanced away. 

You wrapped a towel around your body. When you were finally inside of the resort, you were relieved by the warm indoor air. It wasn’t exactly true that you were tired, but you needed a breather. Another second and it was guaranteed that you would lose whatever bit of mind you still had. 

Ironically, when the elevator opened, Taeyong glanced up from his phone and faced you. He cocked a brow. “And where do you think you’re sneaking off to?” 

“Upstairs,” you stammered, and promptly scolding yourself for doing so. “I’m spent and decided to call it a night.”

Taeyong bobbed his head and wondered if he had anything to do with it. You weren’t subtle in the slightest earlier, sneaking glances at him. Sneaking wasn’t an apt term. 

“Would it be weird if I walked you to your room?” 

You swallowed thickly. You had made so many memories with Taeyong in a single lifetime that every tiny thing reminded you of him. You remembered those days when he would walk you home, especially at night. Like hell he would let you walk home by yourself after dark. 

Every now and then in high school, he would walk you to and from class, and to your front doorstep after school. You would chat incessantly in the meantime, squeezing as much conversation between classes as possible. 

Everyone knew you were best friends. To see you two in the halls together, it was merely just another day. On more than one occasion, your teachers would ask you where he was on the days that you came to class alone. 

You heard your name being called and reeled out of your musing. 

“Sorry. I spaced out,” you said, flushing. “What did you say?” 

“I said - would it be weird if I walked you to your room?” 

“Of course not,” you replied, swallowing once more. You wanted to chide yourself for your lack of self-control. When it came to Taeyong, you just couldn’t say no. 

Taeyong smiled. He let you inside the elevator and moved his hand out of the way so that it would finally close. You punched in your floor number and let the elevator lift you there.

He slipped his hands into his pockets. “How’s Neon?” 

Neon was your pet cat. She was an adorable fat gray cat with vibrantly orange eyes. And the love of your life. After Taeyong, of course. “She’s living the life. Eating a lot, as usual. Ten’s friend Yangyang is cat-sitting her as well as Leon and Louis.”

Taeyong snickered. “Oh boy. He’s in for one hell of a ride.” 

“You bet,” you chortled. “I’m expecting a call demanding we pick them up early any moment now. You know how those three get when they’re together.” 

The elevator chimed and opened and Taeyong let you out. “Ladies first,” he said with a smile, all gentleman-like. “And I’m assuming they’re chaotic as ever.”

“You assume correctly,” you replied, wishing you had your phone. “Yangyang’s totally chill, though. He takes their tomfoolery in stride and even sends us pictures. They toppled over a Cheerios box and somehow Neon wore it on her head.”

“I just got a mental picture of that and it’s absolutely hilarious.” 

You laughed. 

Now you were thinking about who Taeyong saw when he came home. You already knew the answer, but you still asked, “I know you’ve been taking care of your grandmother, but have you not been seeing anyone since you left?” 

“Nope. I never had the time or energy to invest.” 

“But you have it now.” 

“I guess I do,” Taeyong replied with a shrug. “But it won’t change much. It’s too late.” 

Your brows furrowed. “What do you mean, it’s too late?”

Rosé had told you that love had no expiration date. Now Taeyong had said he was too late. Did Taeyong love someone? 

Your heart was shedding tears of blood. 

Taeyong offered you a harmless smile but didn’t elaborate very much. You had already arrived at your hotel room. “I’ll tell you someday. I promise,” he swore. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Taeyong.” 

Taeyong did a one-eighty and began to walk in the direction he had come. Your eyes followed him, stinging. It always hurt to watch him leave. 

It hurt him to walk away. Little did you know, he had spent every day thinking about you. What could have been. When the news broke out about your relationship with Jaehyun shortly after his departure, Taeyong wanted to be happy for you, but nothing but pain and regret and longing plagued his chest. 

The worst part was that he had nobody to blame but himself. He dithered too long and let another man take his place. It was unfair for him to expect you to sit around and stay. Even when he was by your side, you were still waiting for him to decide when he would be ready to let somebody inside his heart again. 

Coward, Taeyong scolded himself. He wanted to love you, but he was too scared and too selfish. Every time, he chose himself over you. And now that you had chosen someone else over him too, he would have to live with that. 

You both would. 

You took a shower and crawled into bed. Jaehyun was beside you when you woke in the afternoon, sleeping like a rock. You took a picture for the group chat and had a good laugh while you still could, knowing he would inevitably seek vengeance. At least somebody was going to milk the absolute hell out of this vacation. 

you: good morning

haechan: it’s 2pm

you: not for this guy

you: [one attachment]

ten: oh you are so, so wrong 

jennie: sleeping beauty? 

johnny: that’s the beast 

mark: lmfaoooo 

lisa laughed at “that’s the beast”

rosé: wipe the corners of his mouth plz 

taeyong: he’s gonna be so mad when he sees this 

you: teehee

you: beach day?

“Sleep with one eye open,” Jaehyun warned lightheartedly when you both arrived back at the beach. 

You giggled. No matter what age, you and your friends would always love a great prank. The war was officially on. 

Looking around for the others, your eyes fell on Taeyong. And Lord have mercy, he was mouthwatering. Had he found the time to work out? Light sheened his sun-kissed skin, dancing on his abs and shoulders. It was no wonder why you started sleeping with this man. 

You saw another woman approach him and immediately frowned. As expected, it was no other than Jennie. Let there be no misunderstanding, neither of you had any bad blood or ill feeling. You simply had a lot of common interests.

And the greatest common denominator was Taeyong. 

Your heart sprained in your chest viciously, taut with envy. A girl as beautiful as Jennie got everything and everyone she ever wanted. She always did. Except for Taeyong. But maybe now he would fall for her charms. 

His words rang in your head. It’s too late. You didn’t know what he meant by that and it was killing you. 

Taeyong glanced in your direction and your gaze instantly shifted elsewhere. You could not do this for another six days. 

Time passed in a blur. You had fun and pushed him into the back of your head. Mark, Haechan and Johnny decided it would be fun to spray you and Jaehyun with water guns, which culminated in one huge water gun battle. 

By the end of it, you were drenched. You draped yourself in a towel whilst the gang slowly disintegrated until only you and Taeyong remained. 

Dammit, you hissed when you noticed him approaching you. Where the hell did everybody go? 

From the staid look on his face, you had a feeling you would not be fond of whatever he was preparing to say. “We need to talk,” Taeyong said, humorless and stony-faced. 

Your eyes flickered. “Now?”

“How much longer do you want to pretend that everything is peachy between us?” Taeyong asked you unsparingly. Which made you flinch. You weren’t used to him being so stern. “I keep seeing you look at me, and I know you see me looking at you. Why are we holding back?”

Because all I know how to do is pretend, you thought somberly. But even you got tired of playing make-believe. 

Taeyong softened and asked, “Walk the shore with me?”

Finding no protest, you agreed. There was a chance this would abate your misery. Or intensify it. There was no in between. 

You abandoned your towel at one of the beach chairs and began to walk side by side with Taeyong. For a while, it was quiet. The silence only pervaded your chest with dread. 

Little did you know, Taeyong was at war with himself. His heart was on one side, but his mind was on the other, and he teetered between them both with every passing second. He opened his mouth to ask, “Do you remember what happened before I left?” 

It was impossible to forget. Before he left, before he got the call. You broke things off, explaining that you didn’t want to sleep with him anymore. Taeyong panicked. He wondered what he had done wrong. But it wasn’t his fault - it was yours.

You winced your eyes shut. Everything had been too deep, too intimate, and you hadn’t known how to handle yourself. Every time you were with him, you were on the verge of doing or saying something you would regret. 

Things became a little strained, and for the first time, awkward. You had no time to fix it before he was taking the next flight to Seoul. 

You eventually got over it by simply never addressing what went wrong. But there was a sneaking question still gnawing at his heart. 

You heaved a sigh. “We already resolved this, Taeyong.”

“No, we didn’t. We ignored the problem. As usual,” Taeyong corrected. You bit your lip, but didn’t argue. No argument could be made. “You never told me why.” 

“It wasn’t your fault.” 

“I know that,” Taeyong replied, brusque. “But that’s not an answer.”

You fought a nervous laugh. How were you supposed to explain that the reason you stopped sleeping with him was because it made you fall for him even more? 

Taeyong pressed, “Was it because you had feelings for Jaehyun?”

You blinked. He was so hot but so cold all at once.

It would have been the easier answer. You could have lied and easily gave him all the closure he needed then and there. “No,” you said instead, honest. “I had no romantic interest in him at the time.” 

That allowed Taeyong to breathe easier, but he was still adamant. “Then, why?” 

Your pulse quickened. You felt like you were being put on the spot. Every gear in your brain grinded against asphalt to a complete halt. 

You contemplated straying from the truth, but you had lived a lie long enough. Taeyong would surely be able to sense you were bluffing. “Because I wanted more,” you whispered, your voice barely above the rushing shore. “And I knew that you didn’t.”

Taeyong stopped dead in his tracks, footsteps coming to an end as he riveted in place. He spluttered, “What?” 

“I can’t do this,” you said, shaking your head. It was your turn to be a coward and run. 

Taeyong called after you and began to pursue you, but you had an advantage. You were barefooted. It was not easy to run in the sand while wearing flip-flops. 

You hid somewhere along the shore, sinking your feet into the water. Tears stung your eyes, the only reason you noticed they were trickling warmly down your cheeks. How could you love someone that didn’t love you so intensely? 

It wasn’t fair. Your heart was ripped to tatters and yet he had no idea of your pain. Three years and the wound was still fresh, dampened by your salty tears. It stung like nothing else. 

You remembered how it felt to be underneath Taeyong. How hard it was to look into his eyes. Nevertheless, he would demand you made eye contact with him. And you would obey, because when you were aroused, Taeyong owned every piece of you.

You feared how much control he had over you in that state. Not only your body, but your mind. You knew that whatever you said or did under his spell and in his trance went beyond conscious control but couldn’t be taken back. And whenever Taeyong strung you to climax, you wanted to profess your love for him at the very top of your lungs. 

A noise sounded from behind you, and you whirled around to be met face to face with Taeyong. “I followed your footsteps,” he explained. You nodded with a sigh and turned back around. Taeyong slipped beside you and asked, “Why are you crying?” 

“I’m not.”

Taeyong fought a roll of his eyes and wiped your cheeks with his thumb. “Tell me what’s wrong,” he whispered, tender. “So I can make it better.”

“You can’t make it better,” you whimpered, shutting your eyes. It’s too late. You almost said those words, but you caught yourself when you remembered where you’d heard them before. 

Taeyong studied you. His eyes were warm, gentle. Why was he looking at you like that? Like you had spawned the earth with your bare hands. 

“Do you…,” Taeyong hesitated, turning melancholy. “Do you still want me?” 

“Taeyong…” 

He coaxed, “Tell me the truth.” 

“What if I do?” you snapped. “What if it’s my boyfriend’s friend that I’ve wanted this entire time? Then what?” 

Taeyong enveloped your lips in a kiss and your fears promptly vanished. For a moment, you were stunned, but you kissed him back because your body had already been so accustomed to the way his lips felt on yours. 

You melted into his touch. It was definitely wrong, but it felt right. Every rational thought subsided with your fear and you subconsciously strung your fingers through his hair, running on instinct. Memories worked against you. You recalled all those times you made out with your best friend, under the sun or in the moonlight or in the comfort of his bedroom. 

Tasting him on your tongue, you remember exactly how much you liked kissing Taeyong. He always kissed you like there was no tomorrow, holding you tight and sucking harshly on your tongue. 

Taeyong pulled away, rasping, and said, “I just kissed my friend’s girlfriend. I guess we’re both in hot water.”

Your heart exploded with a million emotions. For the love of Christ, he had just kissed you in public. Fortunately, there was nobody around when you looked. He was so stupid, but you loved his stupid little face. 

“You’re crazy,” you replied, stepping away to put some distance between you both. 

Taeyong snickered. “I owe it all to you.”

Fuck. What were you doing? You were a taken woman. As much as you wanted to, you didn’t feel very guilty. 

You felt aroused. 

It was impossible to kiss Taeyong and not become aroused all at once. For him, it was like second nature to turn you on. A nibble here and a growl there and you were sold.

Frightened by your own lack of self-restraint, you ran again. You didn’t know what all would happen if you stayed and you didn’t want to find out, either. 

Instead of chasing you again, Taeyong watched you and chuckled because he knew why you were running this time, and you were a mess. What was he thinking - kissing you? He was out of his goddamn mind, but he was out of his goddamn mind in love with you. 

You rushed into your hotel room and didn’t breathe until your back was squarely against the door. It was safe to say that you were positively doomed. 

Traces of Jaehyun remained scattered around the room, but he was nowhere to be found. You remembered that he mentioned he would be having lunch with Johnny and Rosé. 

That only allowed for more time for you to think about Taeyong. Your body burned with arousal. You were content to feel him simply because it was him, but it helped that he was good at what he did. His touch lingered on your body and you savored the taste of his tongue on yours, craving it all over again. 

But you snapped out of your trance and halted. You had been so caught up in the pleasure of Taeyong kissing you that you hardly realized the weight of that action. Did that mean Taeyong wanted you, too? 

And for your heart, or for your body?

Meanwhile Taeyong was still standing by the ocean, thoughts of you plaguing his mind. He wanted to kiss you again so badly. He wished you would break up with Jaehyun and realize you were meant for him. 

He wasn’t scared anymore. He wasn’t the boy that ran away. It took him some time, but he knew now that he wanted you more than anything. And he was ready to risk it all to get you. 

You spent the rest of the day crammed in your room, afraid you would run into Taeyong and do something stupid. Jaehyun came back eventually and fell asleep beside you. You had officially survived two of seven days, though barely. Tomorrow might have been your breaking point. 

A little after two in the morning, you woke to use the bathroom. When you came back, you noticed your phone screen lit with a text message. 

From Taeyong. It read, You up? 

You hesitated, but ultimately typed back a response. Barely. What’s up? 

The typing bubble popped up at the bottom of the screen and you watched and waited for him to type a response. Meet me in the lobby in 10?

That was dangerous. You glanced up from your phone, looking at your boyfriend. Jaehyun was dead asleep. For certain he could sleep through a natural disaster.

Give me 5, you replied. Temptation got the best of you. 

Bet. 

You washed your face, slipped on your shoes, then crept out the door, careful not to wake Jaehyun. You made a beeline for the elevator. 

Waiting for you in the lobby stood no other than the love of your life. Literally. For as long as you could remember, you loved Taeyong. 

You saw his face before you even saw his face. Those images had been bouncing around in your brain for the entire day, asserting dominance and assuring you that they were there to stay. You were perpetually doomed. 

You raised your brow when you saw him, a ball of energy. Much unlike you, but seeing him gave you your second wind. “You do realize that it’s two in the morning, right?” 

“Jet lag,” Taeyong explained, amused. “Miami is fourteen hours behind Seoul.”

Like you weren’t convinced, you added, “Mm-hm. And running around in the sun didn’t exhaust you for a day?”

Taeyong lifted his arms in surrender. “You caught me,” he said, before briefly changing the subject. He couldn’t sleep because every time he closed his eyes, he saw you. Thoughts of you kept him up at night more often than not. “Wanna go somewhere special?” 

“Like what?” you asked curiously. Come to think of it, you had hardly left the hotel since you arrived. 

Taeyong said nothing, merely smirking with mischief and leading you to the parking lot with your fingers between his. 

Oh, god. Taeyong was nothing if not trouble. 

A brief car ride consisting of both of you singing horribly and off-key to whatever song blared on the radio brought you to a very familiar place. One you hadn’t been to since the beginning of college. 

Taeyong opened the door for you and led you to a chained fence. Obviously, you could not go through it. Meaning you would have to climb over it.

“Ladies first,” Taeyong insisted, wanting to be on this side in case you needed help climbing over. 

“This is literally trespassing.”

Taeyong countered smartly, “It’s not trespassing unless you get caught.”

“If I go to jail…,” you hissed. 

Taeyong didn’t flinch. “Relax. Don’t you see this pretty face? I’ve talked a lady out of giving me a speeding ticket before.”

“Aren’t you Prince Charming,” you sneered, but moved towards the fence to clamber above. You had done it a million times before. Granted, you were a reckless teenager at the time, but memory was all the skill you needed. 

“Watch your step!” Taeyong called out. 

You called back, “I know what I’m doing, Taeyong.” 

Taeyong snickered. It took everything for you to concentrate on anything that wasn’t the sound of his laughter so that you wouldn’t trip and get a concussion. 

The moment you were safely on the other end, Taeyong followed after you, skillfully climbing over the fence like he had done a number of times in the distant past. 

“I still got it,” he said unabashedly once he was beside you again. 

“You’re a grown adult man.”

Taeyong argued, “I’m a boy wonder.”

You shook your head. Sometimes you couldn’t believe that this was the man you loved with your whole mind, heart and soul. 

Soon enough, you were at the edge of a building, sitting comfortably on the rooftop and watching the city buzz with life even at the late hour. Miami never slept. Many things changed, but that fact wasn’t one of them. 

A shroud of darkness swept over the town, combated by glimmering lights in sky-scraping structures. Cars honked faintly in the distance, a sign of life. You smiled at the familiarity. Once upon a time, you and Taeyong would sneak off to this exact place, a safe haven from your crazy lives. 

Though you found that any place you were together was a refuge. As long as you had each other, you were safe. 

“Taeyong,” you called, cutting through the silence. 

“Hm?” 

“Why did you kiss me?” 

Your voice dripped with emotion. He met your eyes, and they were sad. You had been asking yourself that question the entire day, but to no avail. 

“Because…” Taeyong hesitated. “Because I’ve been waiting to kiss you again for the past three years.” 

Your eyes flickered. You had no idea he felt that way, and you were in a bit of denial. How could he go from being scared shitless of the thought of love to being in love with you? 

There was a tug at your heart, but you tried your best to ignore it. You decided to put him to the test. “Do you want back what we had?” 

“No,” Taeyong replied, honest. His eyes were big and doe-like. “You were wrong earlier. I did want more. I still do.” 

You swallowed harshly. He wanted more this whole time, but had been running away from you. Like you were armed and dangerous. Little did he know, his warmth and tenderness disarmed you completely. You were weak and defenseless. “I don’t want to be just sex to you,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. 

But Taeyong heard you, lurching and asking, “Is that what you thought you were?”

“What else was I supposed to think?” you asked, shrugging and blinking away tears. You weren’t strong enough for this. That was why you had derailed this conversation for so long. You knew full well it would break you. 

Taeyong was full of regret. “Would you believe me if I said I’ve wanted you my whole life?” 

You blinked. Your heart felt so heavy in your chest. All these years of longing for Taeyong’s heart, only to find that you already had it. It was too much. 

“I was just too scared. The wound was still fresh. I was in a dark place and somehow convinced myself that the whole world was against me. If I let you in, you had my heart at your disposal, and that was too much for me. The last time I let someone that close, they broke me.” 

“I would never do that to you, Taeyong,” you whispered sincerely, reaching for his hand. “You have to trust me. Your heart is precious to me.” 

“I just wish I would have known that before,” Taeyong blew out a sigh, wistful. “It took me almost losing my grandmother to realize that before anything else, I’m afraid of lost. I didn’t want to lose you. But then you got with Jaehyun…”

You finished, “And you felt like you’d already lost me.”

Taeyong nodded. “I was too late. That was what I meant the other day. I thought your heart already belonged to somebody else and I started to think that maybe I never really had a chance.”

The past three years had been hard on Taeyong. He tried to make sense of his life, to pull together any explanation so that he could better rationalize it, even if it wasn’t true. 

He was overwhelmed. All of these emotions were resurfacing, banding together against him and slapping him across the face. It felt like being jolted awake by a bucket of cold water. Nostalgia ran its course with him, but so did regret. And the pining and love for you that made his chest swell hotly. He was angry with himself. For being such a big baby, for not noticing that you had wanted him, too. 

“Taeyong…” you called out.

Taeyong shook his head and stood to his feet, pacing around the rooftop. “This is all my fault. If I would have never been such a coward, if I would have just told you how I felt from the beginning, none of this would have happened. You wouldn’t have tried to fill the void with Jaehyun.”

“You can’t keep blaming yourself for this,” you said gently, following him. “I made that decision. I didn’t know how to cope without you and so I did something really, really stupid.”

“But you wouldn’t have made it if it wasn’t for me,” Taeyong said, too out of it and too in his head. He was crumbling before your eyes. Torn asunder and ruptured beyond reclaim.

Frustrated, you ran a hand through your hair and called his name again. “You don’t know that. I ended our friends with benefits relationship, remember? I would have done anything to distract myself from my feelings for you.” 

To no avail. Taeyong wanted to crawl back inside his shell and hide. This world was too big and he felt as if he had no place in it. Not for any good reason, at least. 

What good was he? He broke your heart, because he was too scared of you breaking his. 

And you wound up breaking each other. 

As a last resort, you leaned on your toes and pressed your lips to his. Just like that, he was at ease again. You yelped when Taeyong hauled you into his arms and pressed you against the nearest wall, kissing you fiercely as if you’d stirred up a monster inside him. It was wide awake and ready to raise hell. 

For a moment, you both forgot about the rest of the world. You forgot about Jaehyun. He forgot that you weren’t his. It was just the two of you, two true lovers making out beneath the moonlight, making up for the time you’d lost when you could have been together. 

Nothing else mattered. You were content to simply be in each other’s arms. 

Taeyong dug you into the wall harder, resting all of his weight on you. It felt like the wind was knocked out of you, but you could hardly breathe before then. Taeyong took your breath away and left you begging for more. 

You moaned into his mouth, pleased as you threaded your fingers through his hair. Taeyong was bent on making a mess of you, reducing you to nothing but love and lust. Warmth coursed through your bodies, scorching hot flares of heat and energy. 

You pulled away first this time, eager to catch your breath. And Taeyong simply stared at you like he had never seen anything or anyone more beautiful, sated. 

“None of this is your fault, Taeyong,” you reassured him, your voice breathy for obvious reasons. “We’ll figure something out.” 

Now, Taeyong was convinced. As long as you had him and he had you, everything would work out. Love would always find a way. 

Taeyong already knew the answer, but he needed to hear you say it. Like it would quell all his worries once and for all. “Do you love him?” 

“I love Jay,” you replied solemnly. “But I’m in love with you.”

That was all Taeyong needed to hear before he was sweeping you into his arms again, smashing his lips to yours. 

You continued to make noises, little groans and growls on his end and a plethora of tiny smothered moans on yours. And god, were they hot as hell. They brought back memories of when you two would fuck until you had depleted every last bit of your stamina. 

It got to the point where Taeyong had to pull away from you, half-hard and afraid of getting too turned on. When you two were together - and alone - it was very, very dangerous. 

“Mm, we can’t,” Taeyong hummed, calling time-out. “I’m definitely a piece of shit, but I’m not that much of a piece of shit.”

You sighed. He was right. This was going too far too fast. You needed to breathe and slow down. 

Easier said than done. You obviously couldn’t control yourselves around each other. 

“Let’s regroup tomorrow,” you suggested. “Today technically, but you know what I mean.” 

Taeyong snickered. “Yeah. I know what you mean.” 

The two of you ditched the rooftop and climbed back over the fence, though in no particular rush to get back to his car. You wanted to stay. You wanted to spend every moment of your life with Taeyong, but things were, needless to say, complicated. Life simply didn’t work in your favor. 

Much to your dismay, Jaehyun was wide awake when you came back to your joint room. You felt like a deer caught in headlights when you met his perturbed eyes. 

“Where have you been?” Jaehyun asked. There was no hostility in his voice; only consternation. 

You felt no need to lie. Jaehyun may have been your boyfriend, but he was also your friend. No matter what it came down to, you would never betray his trust by lying to his face. “I was with Taeyong.” 

Jaehyun cocked a brow. “At four in the morning?” 

You blinked. You hadn’t realized that it had been that long. 

Jaehyun added, “You didn’t pick up your phone. I was worried.”

“I haven't checked it. I’m sorry for worrying you,” you said, approaching him and wrapping your arms around his neck. He was sitting at the edge of the bed. “I didn’t want to wake you. You looked so peaceful.”

“It’s okay,” Jaehyun murmured, voice half-muffled into the crook of your neck. “Just don’t do it again.”

You chuckled, but for the first time, you felt ashamed. Jaehyun didn’t deserve you. He deserved better. A tear nearly slipped down your cheek, but you fought it back with everything you had. You had no right to cry. 

Never did you want to love Taeyong. Love was not a choice. If you could have taken your heart back from his clutches, you would have. But your heart was under tyranny. Love was too powerful. Every beat was for him and him alone. 

Anger presented itself as spasms of heat in your chest, completely directed at yourself. Why couldn’t you love Jaehyun? That would have made everything a hell of a lot easier. He had never wronged you as your friend or as your boyfriend. He took you on romantic dates and he sang to you to cheer you up after a long day and he was always there to show you love. 

Jaehyun is a great guy, you thought. But he’s not the guy for me. 

You knew what you needed to do. Jaehyun might have resented you for ruining what was seemingly a perfectly healthy and happy relationship, especially with no warning, but you couldn’t keep his heart chained away any longer. Somewhere in this world, you knew there was a girl for him that could love him in all the ways you couldn’t. 

As you drifted back to sleep that night, there was a weight on your chest. Before this trip was over, you needed to find the strength to break Jaehyun’s heart. 

Little did you know, Jaehyun sat thoughtfully awake as you slept beside him, already aware that this relationship was bound to end for some time. 

The third day was eventful and a breath of fresh air. You had girl time with the ladies and left the guys to fend for themselves. 

You pressed a kiss to the corner of Jaehyun’s lips then looked amongst the string of guys beside him and said, “Be good. Don’t blow anything up.” 

The guys laughed. Most of them. 

Ten winked and said, “No promises.” He, Mark, Haechan, and Johnny looked full of mischief. 

When your eyes met Taeyong’s, he was watching you. You stepped away from Jaehyun and cleared your throat. 

“Have a good time,” Jaehyun told you.

You forced a smile. “You, too.”

It was a relief when you managed to escape. For the entire day, you were for once able to shake the thoughts of Taeyong and the rack and ruin of your relationship with Jaehyun. 

A spa day with the girls was exactly what you needed to palliate your sadness. And a fun couple of hours of spending way too much money at the shopping center. You wore a constant smile on your face. It reminded you of old times. It would be a while before all of you could gather together like this again, and you wanted to make every minute count. 

No boy business. Although, you were very intrigued about their love lives. Grown women had crushes, too. 

Eventually, you all went for dinner and drinks at a nice pub, laughing over a meal and reminiscing fondly. 

“I need to slow down,” you said, shaking your head once you caught notice of how many drinks you’d chugged. 

Lisa snickered. “Yeah, you do. Just in case you accidentally trip into a chocolate fountain again.”

Rosé and Jennie laughed. 

You rolled your eyes. “I was nineteen and blackout drunk. Give me some credit.” 

You were the laughing stock of the group, but only for a couple of days, because everyone moved on when Mark did something three times more funny and embarrassing. That was how the cycle went in your group. 

That night wasn’t all that bad. Taeyong had a laugh at your expense for sure, but he helped you clean yourself up. And when he thought nobody was looking, kissed some of the chocolate off of the corner of your lips. 

Don’t you dare go there. You aren’t supposed to be thinking about Taeyong, you scolded yourself. 

“Remember that time we caught you and Taeyong practically fucking in the pool?” Rosé asked, heavily amused by the memory. 

You flushed. And wanted to sink into the ground. Ever since you started hooking up, it had been hard for you and Taeyong to keep it in your pants around each other. Especially when alcohol was involved. 

Lisa grimaced in disgust. “Ugh. I wanted to gouge my eyes out.”

“And they had the audacity to think nobody knew they were hooking up,” Jennie said, shaking your head. “Speaking of which - how was it?” 

“I have a boyfriend. I am not going to think about another man’s penis,” you retorted, but it was too late for you. You were thinking about another man’s penis. And god, Taeyong always felt nice and snug inside you. 

Not to mention, he was skilled with more than just his dick. The amount of times he had made you cum with his mouth or on his fingers was ungodly. 

Jennie begged, “Please? I’ve wanted to jump his bones my whole life.”

Lisa laughed in surprise. “Jesus.”

“Fine,” you grumbled, displeased. “He’s good. To say the least.”

Jennie was unimpressed. “Well, duh. You kept coming back to him for some reason.” 

The girls chortled.

She continued, “How big is it? Does it have a little curve? Does it lean or does it hang? Is it trimmed?” 

You waved your hand for a waiter. “Check, please!” 

Way too drunk, the four of you called an Uber. On the way home, Lisa started talking about a girl she’d met at the beach that was totally trying to get in her pants. Lisa, ever a tease, was delaying the inevitable. 

You all laughed and prayed for that poor girl. She was in for a ride. Though Lisa definitely wanted her back, that much was clear. Otherwise she would have never spared her a second of time.

Jaehyun was in the room when you got there, evidently no less drunk than you. And when Jaehyun was drunk, he got touchy. He pulled you into his lap, and you wondered exactly what all those six had done. Jaehyun very rarely made moves on you. 

To be frank, you never minded having sex with Jaehyun. It was unforced. You saw him as everything Taeyong should have been to you, but wasn’t. For some reason, things never worked that way. Your feelings and sex were too completely different aspects, but this and your relationship with Taeyong could never have that in common. 

Exhausted, you decided not to have sex with him and he didn’t push, but you instead foolishly opened a bottle of wine he’d brought along and chatted incessantly, recounting the days events. 

Your heart was sad. When you broke up with him - and you would - you hoped it wouldn’t tarnish the beautiful friendship you had. 

It was late when you both finally decided to call it a night. A couple of unread messages sat untouched on your phone screen, but you noticed Taeyong’s first. From two hours ago. 

I miss you. 

Your heart fluttered. Taeyong was thinking about you. 

Guilt made its way into your chest. You felt bad for responding so late. Aside from your little rooftop encounter, you had barely spoken to Taeyong at all today. 

Sorry. I’m with Jay. He wants to spend the night with me, you replied. That was very true. Jaehyun had no intention of leaving this room until tomorrow and he didn’t want to be alone. It was a bonus that he enjoyed your company.

The ‘delivered’ noticon changed to ‘read’ almost instantly, like Taeyong had been waiting by his phone. It’s fine. See you tomorrow. 

You frowned. You could feel his pain through the phone. It wasn’t your intention to blow him off, but your hands were tied. And every time you were with Taeyong, you felt more and more ashamed of yourself. 

Not to mention, you were drunk out of your mind. You didn’t trust yourself to be around Taeyong, but you especially didn’t trust your intoxicated self. 

Goodnight, Taeyong. 

Taeyong flopped backwards on his bed and sighed. All he wanted was you, but you weren’t his. And a part of him feared that you never would be. 

Jaehyun hadn’t been subtle earlier this evening. He left with every intention of getting some, a testament to his insobriety. Taeyong wondered if he was touching you in all the places he once did, if you’d given Jaehyun your body like you had given it to him. 

He couldn’t stomach it. The thought of you below another man, calling Jaehyun’s name. Fuck, could he even please you the way Taeyong could? Did he know your body the way Taeyong did? 

Maybe he truly was replaceable. You made him doubt whether he had ever been good enough for you. What if you decided last-minute that you didn’t want him - that you didn’t love him? 

I’m in love with you. That was what you said, but did you mean it? Did you really love him?

A girl had lied to him in the past. He was backstabbed and betrayed. But you weren’t her and she wasn’t you. Taeyong had faith that something more could blossom between the two of you, beyond the skin of friendship. 

Taeyong tossed and turned and struggled to fall asleep, staving off his demons. Meanwhile, you were in Jaehyun’s arms, safe and sound. 

Taeyong saw you the next day and the day after that, but you barely spoke. A word was exchanged here and there, but you made no move to engage in conversation with him and he found it difficult to steal you away. 

His fear was unabating. Had he said something wrong? A day or two ago, you had been seemingly fine. And now it felt more like you were avoiding him. 

To make matters worse, he was forced to watch you smile and laugh with Jaehyun. The two of you obviously hadn’t broken up yet. He thought you would have before the trip was over, and there were merely two days left. 

A bitter feeling scorched in Taeyong’s chest. 

Meanwhile, beneath the facade of a radiant girl in a happy relationship, you were shattering. Time was running out. It felt like the walls were slowly but steadily closing in on you. 

You knew you needed to do something, but you had no strength. You were terrified of how Jaehyun would respond. Would he be understanding? Would he resent you for breaking his heart on such short notice and getting with Taeyong even sooner? 

Guilt was crippling. You hadn’t felt it before, but it was merciless to you now. Everything was so heat of the moment with Taeyong and a test of your self-control. 

A knock from the door made both you and Jaehyun pause your conversation. No one announced themselves, thus you figured it wasn’t the hotel staff. And it was well past midnight. 

Jaehyun went to open the door and you followed suit. And your heart promptly sank when you realized who was there. 

“Hey,” Taeyong said stiffly, hands in his pockets. He nodded his head in your direction. “I know it’s late, but can I talk to you?” 

“Yeah. Sure,” you replied, sliding on your shoes. You were not eager, but you needed to get him away from Jaehyun. Your heart was being rapidly in your chest, twisting with fear. 

Taeyong knew it was a foolish idea to show up unannounced, in the middle of the night no less, but his restraint had depleted. He was worn and battered. And he needed his best friend. 

You gave Jaehyun a reassuring smile and said, “I’ll  be back, babe. Don’t wait up.”

Jaehyun was unperturbed and gave you a little nod, smiling back. “Keep her safe,” he told Taeyong. 

Your fragile heart broke. Why did love have to be so complicated? 

As soon as Jaehyun was out of earshot, you whispered to Taeyong, “Are you out of your goddamn mind?” 

“Yes,” was Taeyong’s wry response.

His lack of somberness made you bristle. “We have to be subtle. You looked mighty suspicious popping up after midnight. Jaehyun is…” 

Taeyong interjected bleakly, all of the humor in his tone absent, “You haven’t told him yet.”

You stepped inside his hotel room and blinked. “No. I haven’t.” 

Taeyong shut the door behind himself then flopped on his bed with a sigh, patting the spot next to him. You were reluctant, but ultimately took a seat. A storm of emotion raised hell inside your chest. How could he have been so close to you, but so far away?

You looked into his eyes and knew something - if not everything - was wrong. Taeyong wore his heart on his sleeve. He was sensitive and tender. His vulnerability was a blessing and a curse, something he'd come to hate and you'd come to adore. 

“Tell me what’s wrong,” you sang, rubbing his arm. “I can’t read your mind, Taeyong. You have to let me in.” 

Taeyong decided to be frank. “Have you been avoiding me?”

Your eyes flickered, and you responded by instinct, “I was trying to balance my time. I didn’t want him to become suspicious.”

“That called for a ‘yes’ or a ‘no.’” 

You heaved a breath. “Yes, I have been avoiding you.”

Taeyong said nothing. As much as it pained him, he understood. He knew what it was like to be in a relationship with someone, but long for somebody else. 

Though that never eased the sting of betrayal. It wounded him like nothing else. It was a scar he would carry for the rest of his life. 

“I want you,” Taeyong whispered. Even in the dark room, you could see how his eyes glimmered with sadness. “Every moment I’m away from you, I only want you even more.”

You exhaled, “Taeyong���”

“I’m not finished,” Taeyong said brusquely. “Even when I was with her, I was thinking about you. I was thinking, ‘is this really how love is supposed to be?’ And I wondered if it would be different with you.”

You just listened to the sound of your heart swelling with every passing word. 

“I think part of me knew it would be. Because you had already loved me better without being in a relationship with me.”

“I…,” you searched tirelessly for words, but came short of them. “I don’t know what to say.”

Taeyong was swift. “Say you love me.”

“I love you,” you told him sincerely. You lied next to him and made him look you in the eyes. “You know, I tried to move on. That’s why I got with Jaehyun. I thought that with you on the other side of the world, and another man on my hands, I would forget how it felt to love you. But I never did.”

Taeyong leaned in to kiss you, and as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t let him. You jerked away and stood to your feet. 

You shook your head, tears threatening to break through the dam. “I can’t do this.”

Taeyong rose after you. “Why can’t you?”

“Because I’m not yours!” you whisper-yelled, trying to be mindful of his most likely resting neighbors. “And you’re not mine!”

“Just let him down gently,” Taeyong sighed. 

You bristled. “Do you really think it’s that easy?” 

“If you love me, then yes.”

That shredded your heart and filled you with ire altogether, but because you didn’t want to fight, you turned around and chose flight. 

Taeyong - hot on your heels - chose to fight. He wanted to fight for you and everything you had together. He incredulously trailed behind you, wanting to put the pieces together again instead of leaving them damaged and broken. 

“Where are you going?” he called from behind you, speeding up his pace to match yours. 

You continued to stomp away lividly, not turning sparing him a glance. “Away from you,” you replied coldly. 

“No, you're not,” Taeyong growled, grabbing your arm and forcing you to look at him. He was fuming, eyes narrowed and his aura the most vicious you'd ever seen. “You can’t run away. You can’t hide from me.”

That was rich. You chuckled sourly. “Oh, but you can?” 

“No,” Taeyong snapped harshly. His grip on your arm was firm, but cautious. “Neither of us. If this is going to work, if we’re going to be together, then we need to learn how to face confrontation.”

Breaking loose from his grasp, you shouted, “I wish I didn’t love you!”

Taeyong riveted in place. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” you said ruthlessly, trying to prevent your voice from cracking. “Do you think I’ve been miserable for the past three years out of choice? If I could stop loving you, I fucking would!” 

“Baby, calm down,” Taeyong whispered, trying to placate you. His eyes scanned the area for onlookers, and though there weren’t many at this hour, there were quite a few. 

You didn’t listen, taking steps further away with every step he took closer to you. This was mentally - and emotionally - wearing you down. “Don’t you feel anything? Even a goddamn ounce of guilt?” 

“So then, break up!”

Shaking your head, you bitterly accepted that he would never understand. And you made a beeline for one of the doors on his floor, well aware of who was on the other side. 

You pounded on the door relentlessly. “Come on, come on,” you chanted to yourself. Any second now, Taeyong would catch up to you. You wished he would leave you alone. You wanted him to get out of your head. You hated that you needed him even though you didn’t want to. 

Rosé opened the door with a bemused expression on her face. 

You begged her, “Please, let me in and lock the door.” 

Rosé didn’t hesitate to sweep you inside, locking the door behind you. She glimpsed outside the blinds, trying to find what in the hell had you so distressed. “What the hell happened?” 

“You were right,” you said, collapsing in a mess on the floor. You were giving away, coming apart at the seams. “I loved Taeyong. I still do.”

Rosé was tempted to make a snarky remark about how she already knew, but she understood that wasn’t what you needed. She held her arms wide open for you to crawl into. 

You sobbed on her shoulder. You cried until you had no more tears left. Surprisingly, she never judged you. Your friend simply held you in her embrace and gave you a reassuring pat on the back, singing her consoles softly. 

You were so overwhelmed. You had no strength against your emotions. They got the best of and vanquished you. 

I hate Taeyong, you thought bitterly. No you don’t. You hate the way he makes you feel. You hate that you can’t undo everything you’ve said and done to each other. You hate that no matter what happens, you’ll always love him. 

It seemed so simple. If you broke up with Jaehyun, you could finally have the man of your dreams, but at what cost? Being the object of Jaehyun’s acrimony? Your peace of mind? 

No matter what option you choose, your heart was at stake. 

A little refreshed, you eventually pulled away from Rosé. Though she had no issue with being there for you, she was still curious. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”

You explained everything. How you fell in love with Taeyong a long, long time ago. How you gave away your heart in exchange for sex with him. How you tried to get over him by getting under Jaehyun. How none of it worked, and you came to discover Taeyong had feelings for you, too. 

These were secrets you'd kept buried under the surface for years now, and to your surprise, you felt relieved of the burden once they were all out there. 

“I’ve spent an eternity pretending. I’m exhausted, Rosie,” you confessed. 

Rosé bobbed her head understandingly. “What’s stopping you from breaking up with Jaehyun?” 

“It’s not that I want to keep his heart locked away. He deserves someone better than me,” you began, staring at the floor. “I just don’t want to hurt him. I don’t want to get with Taeyong and make Jaehyun feel like he never meant anything to me. But I guess I’m just delaying the inevitable.”

Rosé chuckled lightly. “You are. It’s selfish to wait when he could already be trying to move on and find the girl meant for him. And who knows - maybe he already knows this moment is coming sooner or later.” 

You blinked. “I guess that’s true.”

“You already told me yourself that you’re tired of pretending. Why pretend, then? What if he’s pretending as well? As long as you’re living a lie, you’ll never move on or know peace.”

You frowned. 

“Look. I understand why you’re doing this,” Rosé started, reaching for your hand. “But that doesn’t make it right or healthy. You have to set Jaehyun free.” 

Your eyes burned with tears again. “What if he hates me?”

“He won’t,” Rosé told you sternly, as if she knew it for a fact. “Jaehyun is your friend before anything. I think you’d have to slap his mother for him to hate you.”

You chuckled. Jaehyun was a Mama’s boy. 

“Do the right thing,” she told you. 

“I will,” you sighed. “But can I stay here for the night?”

Rosé nudged you. “Of course. But don’t avoid Taeyong for too long. You need to apologize for what you said.”

You nodded. Tomorrow you would make everything right. You owed it to everyone around you. 

Literally. You and Taeyong made quite the commotion earlier. It seemed that raising hell was one of your strengths. 

In the morning, you arranged a spot for you and Jaehyun to meet and gave him a call. Last night you texted him last-minute to notify him that you’d be spending the night with Rosé. 

It didn’t take a genius to put together what you had in mind, and you didn’t know whether that was a negative or positive thing. 

Waiting for Jaehyun made you dangerously antsy. You silently hoped the ocean would sweep you under and swallow you whole, never to be seen again. Last night had given you the final push to do what was necessary, but that made it no simpler a task. You were a bundle of nerves, sweat beading at your forehead. 

Thank God, you thought when you saw Jaehyun finally turning the corner. Any longer and you would faint. 

“Good morning,” Jaehyun greeted, casting you a curious look. 

“Good morning. Your favorite,” you said, handing him a cup of coffee made exactly the way he liked it. 

Jaehyun grabbed the cup graciously. “Thank you. You said there’s something you wanted to talk to me about?”

“Um, yeah,” you said, rubbing your neck. “You might want to sit down.”

Jaehyun looked and sounded completely indifferent when he said, “You’re breaking up with me.”

Your eyes flickered with surprise, but you stammered, “Yeah, I… I am. Listen, Jaehyun. You’re a great guy, but I’d be lying if I said my heart wasn’t in a different place.”

“I know.” 

“And I know this is sudden, but…,” you trailed off, processing what he had said. “You know?” 

It alarmed you that Jaehyun was completely chill. You half expected him to snap at any given moment. “You have always felt more like a friend to me than a girlfriend. I have known for some time that there was something missing in our relationship. It’s not hard to tell that we’re both thinking about different people when we make love to each other.”

Now you were completely confused. “Both?” 

Perfectly on cue, no other than Rosé waltzed up to you, smiling innocently. Your jaw nearly hit the floor as you put the pieces together. 

All of the signs had been there. In hindsight, given the amount of time the pair spent together, neither of them were exactly subtle. But you were too engrossed in your Taeyong fiasco to notice what was happening squarely under your nose. 

You scrambled for words. “You…”

Rosé smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, hon. Don’t be too mad. We did nothing you and Taeyong already haven’t.”

It ended up being you that needed to sit down. You shook your head, in disbelief. You weren’t hurt, but you were in shock. “How?” 

“Well, like I said, I already knew something was missing in our relationship. A couple years ago, I started talking to Rosé. We agreed not to let things get too serious until you and I broke up,” Jaehyun explained. 

No wonder Rosé had been trying to pry you off of Jaehyun and into Taeyong’s arms. She wanted him for herself. Everything she told you last night was because she already knew that Jaehyun had found another girl and was expecting your relationship to fall apart any moment now.

Love has no expiration date. Some people spend their whole lives hopelessly in love with the same person. Had she been talking about herself?

Figuring you had nothing to add, Jaehyun diplomatically added, “I don’t want this to put a dent in either of our friendships.”

You peered up at him, brow cocked. “Are you kidding? I shouldn’t be this happy that my boyfriend has been talking to my friend behind my back but I am. I was afraid you were going to despise me indefinitely.” 

“You aren’t exactly a saint either,” Rosé said lightheartedly. 

“I know,” you sighed, then turned back to Jaehyun. “I’m sorry.”

Jaehyun was unbothered and gave you a playful nudge. “Let’s call it even.” 

You smiled. With that burden out of the way, you could breathe a little easier. But your eyes grew wide as you remembered you had one more person you needed to talk to. 

“Do either of you know where Taeyong is?” 

“He’s where you would find any other crabby Cancer,” Rosé replied, totally amused. 

You bid Rosé and Jaehyun goodbye and made a beeline for the beach. 

Spotting Taeyong took no time at all. He stood at the shore with his feet smothered in the sand. His body faced the ocean, but you could recognize that back anywhere. Your fingernails had become very familiar with it as well. 

Abandoning your shoes by a beach chair, you began to chase after him, bare feet roaming hot sand. “Taeyong!” 

Taeyong knew the sound of your voice and warmth spread through his chest when he heard it. He turned around, met with the sight of you looking ready to pounce on him. 

“Walk the shore with me?” you asked, chest heaving for breath. 

His voice was small. “Sure.”

The two of you walked in deafening silence. You nervously wracked your brain, searching for the right words to say. They never came. Your mouth had so much to say last night and now you were running on empty. 

Deciding to go with the flow, you inhaled and exhaled. “I broke up with Jaehyun.”

Taeyong stiffened. “How did it go?” 

“Very amicably,” you replied, recalling the unbelievable scenario that had taken place merely moments ago. “Apparently, he and Rosé have been talking.”

Seeing as Taeyong had no comment, silence fell over you both again. 

“I owe you an apology,” you added a couple moments later. 

Taeyong folded his arms over his chest. “I’m waiting.”

Your breath got shaky. “I’m sorry for what I said last night. It was cruel and you didn’t deserve any of that. I love you, Taeyong. That’s all I want to do. And if there’s anything I can do to make it better, let me know.”

“Be mine.”

You slipped your finger through his. “I am yours. Every part of me. My heart beats for you, Taeyong.”

Taeyong couldn’t control himself for another second and leaned over to kiss you. You didn’t hesitate to kiss him back, in front of the whole world, where almost anyone and everyone could see you. Not that either of you seemed to care. You wanted the entire universe to know that you belonged to each other. 

Noting that you weren't trying to shy away, Taeyong kissed you even harder. You moaned into his mouth, a noise that drove him positively insane. 

Your now-boyfriend was high on the realization that he could now kiss you whenever he wanted, wherever he wanted. You were his, and he would make sure no one ever forgot. It caught you completely off guard when Taeyong attached his lips to your neck, and you sucked in a gasp, numb as his tongue warmed your weak spot. 

Taeyong smirked. He still remembered where it was. You used to go through hell and back to cover the marks he left on your neck and collarbone, though now you had nothing to hide. 

Before it got too far, you pulled away and said, “Mm, let’s not get banned from the resort. Can I come to your room tonight?”

Taeyong knew what that meant. “You know the way.”

For the rest of the day, you had an indestructible smile on your face. You had made out with Taeyong for all to see before noon, no less - and it was incredible. 

And when night fell, surely enough, you were at his door. 

Taeyong wasted no time in sweeping you inside, shutting the door and pressing your back into the surface. You gasped, and had a split second to react before he smashed his lips against yours. You combed your fingers through his hair, closing your eyes and letting love and lust aid you. 

Your body burned with want. Never had you needed anything so desperately. You wanted Taeyong and you wanted him now. 

“Fuck,” you moaned when Taeyong raked his teeth over your neck. “Fuck me.”

You both raced to the bed, shredding each other of your clothes messily. They were a mess in his room when you were finished, not even in a heap on the floor, but carelessly tossed and scattered across his room to never be seen again. The air was chill, but it was a perfect contrast to your bodies, scorching with arousal. 

Wanting to see your face while he was inside you, Taeyong made you lay on your back before he fucked you. 

Taeyong cursed himself when he realized he had no condoms. Needless to say, he wasn’t expecting at all to fuck his best friend turned girlfriend. 

“You don’t need a condom, baby. Just fuck me,” you purred, spreading your legs as if to entice him further. 

Your boyfriend was half a second away from becoming a ferocious animal. The mere thought of fucking you full of his cum again was enough to deplete his sanity. “Did you let Jay fuck you raw?” he growled, needing to know. 

You shook your head. “Never. Only you.”

Satisfied, Taeyong inched between your parted legs, mouth watering at how eager you were for him and the sight of your wet cunt on display for his eyes alone. He wanted to destroy you, but that was if you didn’t leave him in ruins first. 

Taeyong glided his cock to and fro on your folds, coating himself in your arousal. Your teeth clamped onto your bottom lip every time he brushed your clit, sensitive and tender, and at one point you determined the teasing had to be deliberate. 

You sucked in a gasp when he finally began to push inside, teeth clamping harder. Any moment now, they would be damp with blood. Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull as soon as you were filled to the core, every inch of him swallowed by your non-loosening cunt. The grip was deathly, as if you refused to let him go. It tore a mean growl out of him that only made you clamp around him even tighter. 

Taeyong set a hurried rhythm that made the bed tremble with his movements. He wanted to be slow, wanted to draw it out, but the way you gripped him so warmly and tight said otherwise. His body was on autopilot, driven by impulse and desire. 

Every time he thrusted in, you whimpered. You had been counting down the hours until you could finally have him, scrambling for distraction after distraction, and it was so worth it. 

“God,” you whimpered, standing at the threshold of insanity. 

Taeyong was right behind you. Wherever you went, he was hot on your heels. Under your spell, he would follow you into a ring of fire. 

Metaphorically speaking, he was already balls deep inside one. 

Heat split you right down the middle. Nothing less than earth-shattering. It was a prominent fact that Taeyong had enjoyed both inflicting and watching you come apart under his heel. You were stranded at the very eye of a pleasure-induced vortex, with no top and no bottom. No start and no finish.

Just never-ending pleasure.

“I missed this,” Taeyong growled, making your breath crawl in your throat. “I missed you.”

You searched tirelessly for the strength to speak. “Me, too,” you croaked. 

A sigh of pleasure parted your lips as Taeyong continued to rock inside you. You were in disbelief that you could have ever given this up - given him up. Surely, you had to have been out of your mind. 

Taeyong knew your body like nobody else. Every scar, every strength, every weakness - the knowledge lay awake in the palms of his hands. You had been ignorant of how intimate it was until you fell for him, and now it was unignorable. The depths of the power he had over you. 

Little did you know, you had the same power over him. His fate lied in your hands. He was vulnerable to you in ways the rest of the world would never see. 

In the same way that he owned you, you owned him. 

“God, you’re amazing,” Taeyong moaned, every piece of his self-control floating in the ocean somewhere. As was yours. 

Tears of pleasure welled in your eyes. You were being reduced to tears. To be under Taeyong again, it felt natural and whole. Like this was how it was meant to be. 

Your noises were spiraling out of control. Taeyong made it all too easy to forget that other people existed in this great, huge world. In your mind, it was only you and him. 

Taeyong clamped a palm over your mouth and shushed you. “Quiet, baby. You’ll make somebody mad.”

He was making you mad. 

You clenched the sheets in your fists to anchor yourself, but even the bed was giving way to his lack of mercy. Your sounds were smothered by his palm, but you were crying out his name and he could tell. 

Taeyong proudly watched the sight of you convulsing beneath him, breasts bouncing and your skin beading with glimmering sweat. In the same vein, sweat gathered at his forehead and his chest heaved. You were making a mess of the sheets - making a mess of each other. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you warned, pulse speeding as you neared release. 

However close you were, Taeyong was likely even closer, and he stuffed a hand between your warm legs, toying with your clit. Your response was instant, legs instinctively trying to close, but Taeyong moved his hand that was clamped over your mouth and gripped your thighs tightly. You watched his biceps seal your movement, taut with muscle. 

You could merely squirm, unable to remain still. Taeyong knew exactly which buttons to mash. You were going to fall apart in record time. 

“Let go with me,” Taeyong pleaded, endeavoring to coax you into an orgasm. “Please, baby.” 

You were so lost, so tangled in his web. Like a fly to a spider. You knew you were doomed then, but you had no room to desire actual release; only the kind that set your soul free.

And a billion emotions with it.

Your bodies moved in league with one another, you arching into him. You were nothing short of restless. Orgasm was calling your name in a chant, sweet and honey-like. It was impossible to ignore what your entire body yearned for. 

You surrendered, shuddering with climax. Taeyong had to lock his palm over your mouth again, smothering the scream you made as orgasm reduced you to only ecstasy. Your eyes closed as your lips tore open, your heart thumping mightily in your chest. You were scorching all over, skin on fire. 

Taeyong came not a moment later, cock twitching with climax. His teeth clamped into his bottom lip, and the growl that slipped between made you feel as if you could cum again on command. He anchored himself with his hands on your waist as his orgasm tore something absolutely inhuman out of him. 

The feeling of his cum stuffing you full made you moan. It made you feel whole and complete. You were limp against the mattress, lips parted in shallow breaths as you tried desperately to catch your breath. Taeyong slackened, collapsing at your side once sated. Meanwhile, you fought a smile as you felt his release trickling warmly down your legs and thighs. 

Taeyong’s first instinct was to check up on you, eyes big and starry as he asked, “Are you okay?“

You sighed, “Dunno. I think you broke me.”

His face tensed with concern and you busted into laughter. 

“I’m kidding,” you said, pressing a brief but reassuring kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I’m all good, baby.”

Taeyong smiled softly. A moment of silence passed, but it was pleasant. You listened to the sounds of each other’s breath, comforted because it was proof that you were there. Neither of you wanted to move or leave, content to merely be in the presence of one another.

Taeyong had you and you had Taeyong. That was all you needed. 

“Tell me you’ll stay,” Taeyong said, breaking the silence first. 

“I’ll stay.” 

Like he was unsatisfied, Taeyong added, “Tell me you’ll never leave.”

“I’ll never, ever leave you. You have my word on that,” you promised solemnly. “I don’t want to pretend anymore, Taeyong. I love you.” 

Taeyong’s heart pounded with both awe and ache. His fingers laced through yours and squeezed comfortably. “You don’t have to pretend with me. I promise.”

You both lay comfortably in each other’s embrace, your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat spelling your name. 

The morning you all had to check out of the hotel, you leaned your back against your car, facing the resort fondly. It had been one hell of a week here, but you were appreciative. 

As always, Taeyong was right at your side. 

“What have we both learned from this trip?” 

“We both run from our issues like cowards,” Taeyong drawled, a wry smile on his face. 

“Mm. How compatible are we,” you deadpanned. 

Taeyong stole a quick kiss and snickered. “Very.” 

Yesterday you announced to your mutual group of friends that you were dating, as well as the fact that Rosé and Jaehyun were dating now. Which - as expected - garnered a handful of mixed responses. It would definitely take some time to get used to. 

Not like you cared. For once you were contentedly in love. No more dwelling on the days of the past, wondering what could have and should have been if you would have done this or that. 

Taeyong seemed to have the same idea. His heartache finally subsided after years. It was him that had left, but you were the one that got away. 

“I love you,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his body and resting your head on his chest. “I need you to know that.”

Taeyong was beaming. Never had he been more in love. You were his first, his last, and his everything in between. 

“I know,” Taeyong replied. His heart was at ease at last. “I will never forget it, baby.”

[reblive]

An except from Eric’s journal that i’ve thought about often as of lately. I have no place to put my thought so I will speak on here. No intent for discourse, I just have no outlet to speak on this matter. If this is not the space for you, just don’t read it. I don’t really care to hear anything.

“Society may not realize what is happening but I have; you go to school, to get used to studying and learning how youre "supposed to" so that drains or filters out a little bit of human nature. but thats after your parents taught you whats right and wrong even though you may think differently, you still must to have more of your human nature blown out of your ass. society trys to make everyone act the same by burying all human nature and instincts. Thats what school, laws, jobs, and parents do If they realize it or not and them, the few who stick to their natural instincts are casted out as psychos or lunatics or strangers or just plain different. crazy, strange, weird, wild, these words are not bad or degrading.. if humans were let to live how we would naturaly it would be chaos and anarchy and the human race wouldnt probably last that long, but hey guess what, thats how its supposed to be!!!!! society and goverments are only created to have order and calmness, which is exactly the opposite of pure human nature. take away all your laws and morals and just see what you can do. if the goverment was one entity it would be thinking "hey, lets make some order here and calm these crazy fucks down so we can be constructive and fight other goverments in our own little so called self created "civilizied world" and get rid of all those damn insticts everyone has" well shit I'm to tired wright anymor tonight, so until next time, fuck you all”

In some way in pains me to see the way he felt about the world and the wrong doings of those around him. If you take a second to sit and read what he’s saying it’s like part of his authenticity comes out and then transitions back to switching to speak to the audience and how he wanted to be seen. I can’t always articulate in words the feelings I get when I think about him but it’s genuinely always painful. He was so hurt, and described his pain, but still shadowed his true feelings of distress for the audience. He cared about what other people thought about him even in his writings, and it’s so disheartening that he was that broken and plague by the environment he was in. I take time to consider how people cannot feel empathy for him and I understand it due to the situation at hand (obviously) however, considering how he was 17 years old writing this, he was just a kid. He was once how we all once were, innocent and compelled to continue on the paths of our lives the way that the nature of society intended us to. It really goes to show how fucked up he had it. This draws me back to the butterfly effect, was there one decision by himself, or inflicted upon him by others that brought him to where he ended his life? Empathy is a theme he seems to disregard in his journal entries, and quite frankly, all of media and the world deems him as un empathetic because of his writings. We didn’t know how he thought of himself in his head, we didn’t know the guilt, destruction, and true pain he went through that was genuine. I find this a reason why there is much more weight put onto him within his person. “It’s only a tragedy if you think it is, and then it’s only a tragedy in your own mind.” (7/29/98) I suppose this is how we all (who empathize with E&D) feel and can relate to.

Thinking too much about his pain these days and what he once was and how he became what he was. Being truthful and honest are two different things. Being truthful, factual, what he did was terrible. Being honest, feelings, I have so much pain in my heart for how he was feeling. There’s nothing anyone can do now (whom empathize)

[latibvles]

YOU LEFT ME IN THE DARK.

or the “vivbucky make impulsive questionable decisions in the hours before Münster” fic that’s been rotating in my head for a couple months. adults doing consensual things under the cut even if the reasons for said consensual things aren’t the best. check it out here on AO3!

The smell of fuel and blood burns her nose, engines roaring loud in her ears. Heart pounding, blood pumping like it just might burst from her pulse points and drench everything. Her palms are sweaty and the only thing keeping her breathing evenly is necessity. Willie’s whiter than a ghost next to her, bleeding all over everything until Lena gets to her. It’s all loud and fiery and a chunk of burning metal thunks against the wing of the Mouse Hole. If there is a God, then he’s probably the one thing keeping their feathered engines from going up in smoke, blowing them all to smithereens.

If there is a God, she’s got a bone to pick with him.

Her head hurts almost as much as her hand does.

The pub is quieter and devoid of the faces she knows — or rather, cares to know. Which is fine, because she has no will left to be composed and quite frankly doesn’t owe anyone as much. Harding can chastise her about fighting later, if he even would. Which he won’t, so it wasn’t like any of it matters. She couldn’t be worried anymore, now she’s just angry.

Her ears have been ringing for the past twenty-four hours and her knee’s bouncing with all the energy she’s unable to expend.

Viv wants to break something. Or scream, maybe. Theoretically she could get away with it; that’d been the point of heading into town anyway — less eyes, less correspondents waiting for her to fuck up. Sharks waiting to catch that first scent of blood, waiting to finally see her break. It’d be a helluva story.

Shit, they got Buck!

Fucking— Lena get down here. Willie’s hit!

She’s still breathing! Buck— er, Our Baby, how many ‘chutes?!

I don’t see any!

Her hands never shake when she flies and yet they were trembling then. Still trembling now, like she’s some kind of insufferable whistling tea kettle. She thinks her ability to land the plane like that is one of the many wonders of the human condition. She felt nothing when it happened. She doesn’t feel much now, either.

Well, besides being angry, which at this point is a constant thrumming in her system — synonymous with the blood in her veins and oxygen in her lungs. But it’s not especially useful, like blood or air. It’s just enough to ensure they’re still flying the next mission, rain or shine. Harding wanted them to sit the next one out but Viv wouldn’t be able to stand that either. She flies a bus that could do damage and by God does she want to do some serious fucking damage. Her hand tightens on the crystal glass as she raises it to her lips and lets whiskey coat her throat.

She wants to hit something.

She’s already done that, but the itch is still there. An incessant scratch. Not because she should do it, but because she can and because what else is there to do. She didn’t consider herself an instigator but here she is, entire body itching for a fight. Or, more aptly, itching for another one — her knuckles throb with a painful reminder of the nose she’d broken a few blocks down and she doesn’t really remember what was the spark of that. Not that it matters. Her hands are a little bloody and it isn’t enough.

The door opens and shuts. The bar is so quiet that she can hear it loud in her ears, over the roar of engines and the shouting.

Bucky doesn’t greet her like he would’ve before. He just sits beside her — startlingly sharp, similarly miserable, and a whole day early. She can feel his presence like an unshakeable poltergeist latching itself to her person to torment her further. Viv wasn’t the one to tell him Buck went down when he called and she doesn’t think she would’ve had the stomach to anyway. Cowardly. They all ducked out of doing it to avoid whatever state he’d be in upon finding out. Evidently, Viv still draws the shortest straw. 

She doesn’t have to look at him to know that sorrow’s already taken its hold of him when she’s been there since yesterday afternoon.

He gets himself a drink and the bartender takes her empty glass. Viv’s knuckles rap against the bartop, lacking a proper rhythm  and he takes note of that. Because of course he does. Because in knowing her, Bucky’s made a point to notice everything she does and Viv hates him for it.

His eyes settle then, on her hands. Her fists still sting. Her throat still burns. And she’s still angry enough for her hands to ball further where they rest against the bar top. A little bead of red pearls where she’d split one of her knuckles. Bucky kisses his teeth.

“Looks bad.” He states. There’s no tease there, no chuckle. It’s falling flat and she’s falling with it.

“Should see the other guy.”

“I don’t give a damn about the other guy.” There is no curl of a grin to his lips, no glint to his eye, no flash of teeth accompanying the words. Just his eyes, fixated on her fists with an unreadable expression before he gets his drink.

He doesn’t even sit with it. He shoots it and orders another. There’s an itemized list of all the right things to say but they all sound stupid coming from her mouth, so she opts for silence. It’s not like that’s something they haven’t dealt in before. Very few people would think he could be fluent in silence — but sometimes, Bucky could take the hint that his jokes wouldn’t land. Sometimes he can’t be bothered to make them, so he doesn’t.

If she wasn’t so angry, she’d express some kind of gratitude for that.

The bartender slides her another whiskey too, and she watches condensation slide down the side of the glass — a fat droplet pooling against polished wood.

“You flying tomorrow?” she asks finally, already knowing the answer.

“Does that bother you?” His tone is halfway between sharp and indifferent. Her jaw clenches, she slams back the drink in her hand to keep from saying something crueler than it needs to be.

“If it did, would it matter?” She counters, because it’s slightly kinder than Don’t be an idiot, Bucky. Of course it does. She turns her head to look at him, squinting slightly. Bucky kisses his teeth, says nothing to that, which is as much of an admittance as any that no, it wouldn’t. It’d make her a hypocrite, anyway. Harding’s pulling strings he doesn’t have just to get her in the air tomorrow because she half-begged for it. She’s the last person who needs to be telling anyone else to stand down.

It’d been a mission in and of itself to get Jo to listen, which was a surprise. She would’ve figured spilling hot coffee all over her own uniform would’ve been more of a deterrent. 

One hand falls behind her chair, landing on top of the back rest — his thumb pressing into the center of her spine. She can’t tell if it’s deliberate or just Bucky being Bucky; craving contact and burning her in the process. He gets his second drink — or more aptly, a shot — downs it and licks whatever remains from his lips.

“How’s Willie?”

“Dunno. You should ask Brady.” The bitterness there isn’t directed at Brady. It’s not directed at anything, really. Maybe if she nips enough times, he’ll be deterred into leaving her the hell alone before she actually bites at him. Before she says something cruel for the sake of it. Once again, not because she should, but because she could, and she’s angry and has nowhere to put it. It’s not like she’s especially hard-pressed to punch him, not even if he asked that of her.

Bucky’s not deterred though. His thumb drags up her back and she shivers, jaw clenching. Deliberate, then. Goddammit Bucky. She shuts her eyes for a moment, huffing as the tip of his thumb drags back down almost lazily — a direct contrast to the piercing stare he’s fixed on her, unmoving as he tries to peel back the layers. She wants to tell him to fuck off and just worry about himself for once, but even in his current state it’s like self preservation isn’t in his DNA.

She laughs humorlessly at the assessment. Pot, meet Kettle.

The gesture alone makes her feel warm, suffocated, an itch manifesting beneath her skin that she can’t scratch. Or, more aptly, one that she shouldn’t scratch and she isn’t going to indulge. It just ends in knuckles and teeth. They’re a sad sight, the pair of them, scowls on their faces and empty glasses.

His brow raises at her bout of laughter. She tells him as much. We’re a real sad sight.

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

“And what makes you say that?” There’s something about the tone of it that sparks something in her — jaw clenching, an ache behind her temples.

“Why’re you here, Bucky?” Viv snaps, unsure if she means it or not. Even with the bite his hand doesn’t recoil, like it’ll anchor her to the spot. All it does is stoke at the fire in her veins and maybe that’s half the point of it. Make her mad enough to hit him or something like that, give him a bruise for tomorrow, like Curt would. Well she’s not fucking Curt either.

“Same reason you are.” Each word is drawn out in that way that almost sounds sarcastic. She exhales sharply through her nose, nostrils slightly flaring. There’s no tease to the words, no smile tugging at his lips. “Less eyes.”

She can hear the snap of her patience in her ears, like a dingy old rubber band. An irrational one at that — which is why she’s hopping off the barstool before she can do something really stupid in this bar; she doesn’t even know what it is. Her thoughts are a mere streamline of curses, hardly registering how she pushes the door open after leaving some nonsensical amount of money on the table. Fuck you for sitting next to me, John Egan. And fuck you for reading me, too. And fuck Buck Cleven for going down, and Benny Demarco too, for that, and fuck Eisenhower for—

“Viv.” His call of her name is the siren’s song and she’s the idiot sailor who forgot to put wax in his ears — feet stalling once she’s made her way about halfway down the alleyway between the pub and another building.

He’s following her and it serves as an acute reminder that they’re all they’ve got right now. 

Bucky’s silhouette is at the end of the alleyway, tall and imposing in the dark as he takes a few steps toward her. She can’t really register what he’s saying to her — feet moving on their own back towards him until they’re toe-to-toe, squinting at him, hands balled into fists. If she asks a question, she knows he’ll answer, but it’ll just piss her off further. No fault of his, just the way Viv’s always been wired and if she could change that, she would, but she can’t.

There’s a lot of things she can’t change. A lot of things she wants to change, too.

“Told you I’d be your bailout when you’re walkin’ home,” Bucky murmurs gruffly, whiskey-breath fanning over her face, warm and strong. The reminder hangs in the air, heavy like the space between them.

If it were possible to have a second snap, she thinks this would be it.

Viv doesn’t know why she leans forward, tilting her chin up to kiss him — it’s hardly even a kiss, just a hard press of her lips against his. She doesn’t know why she does anything about John Egan; he just chips and chips away at her senses until she’s nothing more than some reactive feral creature that can barely keep up with him. She hates him for it. She loves him for it.

She wants to be cut on his jagged edges and let the sting distract her from the anger and how it threatens to swallow her whole, how it threatens to burn him, too.

He stares at her a moment after she does it, blue eyes wide, that loud sorrow giving way to his shock.

“I’m done talking,” Viv breathes out. His jaw clenches, holding her stare.

Finalities weren’t a thing they did.

Bucky’s grabbing at her face with a gruff “c’mere”, rough hands on her cheeks, pulling her to him and slotting their mouths together hungrily. A band snaps between them, she grabs at his arms, squeezing as their lips meld together messily. She’s stumbling, him with her, until her back meets unforgiving bricks and she’s nipping at his bottom lip. His hands fall from her face, to her hips, squeezing as he opens up his mouth for her.

The anger pools in her belly, blurring the line between frustration and desire. He works a muscular thigh between her legs — she rolls her hips against it, taking a trembling breath between kisses. She can feel the hard press of him against her own leg and he grunts, rutting against her thigh. One hand digs into his shoulder, the other moving down to brush against his covered cock — dragging upward until she’s met with the metal of his belt buckle.

Viv breaks their kiss and his breath fans out over her face, thoroughly flushed, twitching beneath her index finger.

“John,” Viv huffs out, with a tight squeeze of his shoulder, the hand then crawling up the back of his neck to work selfishly into his inky dark hair.

She doesn’t know why she says that — John, not Bucky — maybe it’s to grasp at some type of intimacy they won’t get to have. A crumb of what she can’t give him because she’s always been sharp edges and bloodied fists and even now all she knows how to do is bite.

He knows that now, too, and she refuses to let him pierce his stupid bleeding heart on her reckless canines.

“You’re killin’ me here,” he declares with a slight huff — his voice dragging her back to reality. The thigh rubbing against her center, the thrum of desire in her veins.

Her blunt nails scrape against his scalp as he presses his forehead against her own, breaths exchanged as the hand not squeezing her hip finds the button of her pants. He looks down, then back up through dark lashes, lips parted and question posed on his tongue that she answers by pulling his mouth towards hers again, biting at his lower lip and pouring a senseless please into his mouth. He grunts against her lips, biting back, tongue running across her bottom lip and chest pressed against her own. They only leave enough space for their hands — grabbing at each other recklessly, hands finding purchase where they can.

Their bodies shift against the bricks as she tugs at his belt buckle with newfound fervor, hearing the soft clink of it as she undoes it entirely. He mimics the action, going as far as to dip his hand inside, pressing against her underwear and the whine she lets out is swallowed up by his mouth. She pulls away to kiss at his cheek, leaning towards his ear.

“Don’t tease,” she huffs out, can feel him grinning against her neck as his fingers graze everywhere between her legs but where they need to be.

She slips her hand into his pants, feeling the hard heat of him against her palm — she presses down, just to make him grunt and tremble against her frame. “I said don’t tease.”

“Eager girl,” he mutters, a tease to the words, and she tries not to give away how much it affects her. The mess between her legs is indicative enough as he pushes the fabric to the side, runs his finger up and down her seam a couple times and she’s gasping.

Her lips press against his neck reflexively — open-mouthed kisses against his smooth skin. She catches a whiff of a fading perfume she doesn’t recognize; nothing like the Red Cross girls’ familiar scent. It makes her stomach twist in a weird way she doesn’t want to acknowledge, so she doesn’t.

She feels the first of his fingers press into her — long and defined, her muscles relaxing around the digit as he murmurs encouragement into her ear: let me in, there you go, that all for me? 

She noses at his pulse point, further tormenting herself with that weird mix of flowery perfume and his typical scent as her hand works past his underwear to wrap around his length properly. He swears as she squeezes and takes her time, dragging her hand up and down the silky smoothness of his cock.

“Viv,” he sounds wrecked already from a few twists of her hand, and that fact alone has her grinning and preening between heavy sighs as he works a second finger inside her, clenching around his digits as they move in and out her at an almost-languid face.

Her teeth graze against his neck and Bucky makes a throaty noise — a desperate Vivian. Pleading, fingers curling inside her. Like he needs her mark more than he needs oxygen, or whiskey, or all the pretty girls in London. So she bites hard, until she’s certain it’ll bruise, lathes over the spot with her tongue. His thumb presses against her clit firm, and she whines into his neck as he zeroes in on the spot.

“Like that?” he grunts. She nods her head furiously. “Words, baby.”

The endearment makes her heart hurt. She pushes it to the back of her mind.

“Like that,” she parrots in his ear. “Fuck. Keep going. I need—”

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs in a way that sounds properly sober. She greedily pulls him back in with every flex of his fingers, his cock pulsing in her hand with each twist of her wrist. Viv squeezes, watching his hips start to rock as he thrusts into the channel her wrist has made.

With each thrust, he presses against her clit and a spot inside her that has her whining raggedly into his neck. Her head’s swimming, hardly able to make any sense of his ramblings about how tight and warm she is, unable to answer when he asks if she knows how long he’s been thinking about this but grateful that he doesn’t stop when all she can answer with is a moan. He works quickly, and for once Viv is willing to let him do this: take her apart, put her back together, brand her body with his kisses against whatever skin he can find and squeezes of her breast, her hip.

If they can’t give each other anything else, they can have this.

“Bucky,” she gasps out. “I’m—”

“Not Bucky,” he grunts, a harsh thrust of his fingers accompanying the cutoff. “Don’t call me Bucky.” She huffs, lifting her head to look at him. Her eyes are so dark she could hardly tell if they were still blue.

“John,” she corrects, leaning forward to press her forehead back to his. “M’close, John. M’so close.”

His lips part and his eyes flutter shut as she lets her thumb brush across the weepy head of his cock, making a soft little moan.

“I’ll get you there,” he murmurs, “how d’you want it?”

“Faster. Please.”

“I’ll get you there, sweetheart,” she feels his fingers spread a little inside her — she’s crushing their lips together again to swallow the noises that would otherwise tumble freely from her lips as his fingers make a scissoring motion, pressing hard against her bundle of nerves. She’s only upright because of his body pressed against her, keeping her sandwiched between the wall and his frame, keeping her obscured from any onlooker if they tried to pause and discern who Major Egan was with.

Did the others call him John? Did he ask them to? Did he hide them just like this — let them keep a crumb of their modesty even as he took them apart? Did the girl in London take him apart like she is now, with teeth and rough hands, or were her palms just as soft as her flowery perfume?

The questions have her eyes stinging, so she shuts them and kisses him harder as her body starts to tremble, arm wrapping around his broad shoulders to press him impossibly closer. Selfishly so, to pretend for just a moment that he is hers and hers alone. That she’s one of those broken-in shelter dogs and not a stray tied up with a chain around her neck.

She makes a broken, throaty sound against his lips as she comes, and he squeezes her tight as he thrusts once, twice, three times before freezing up. His cock, slowly softening in her hand as they kiss each other. There’s a wet noise when they part again and she opens her eyes to look at him.

His cheeks are ruddy and flushed, black curls falling in front of his forehead as he looks down between them. His arm is still wrapped around her waist, solid and strong like he’s waiting for her trembling to subside. How does she tell him that it never will? That tomorrow her hands will shake during pre-flight check, and they will shake on the mission, and when they come back — if they come back.

His fingers slowly withdraw from the deepest parts of her, she pulls her hand from his pants and wipes whatever remnant of him is on it on the bricks behind her unceremoniously. Still, he presses a kiss between her brows and goes to tuck her shirt back in, to zip the fly and put her back together, saying nothing. She almost wishes he wouldn’t do it at all. There’re… things you’re supposed to do after this: questions to ask. How was that? and Are you okay? but they can’t bring themselves to say that. This, she figures, is meant to make up for that.

There’s a lot of things they don’t say. Maybe it’s better if they just keep it that way.

We’re a mess is all she can think about as his hands go to squeeze once at her hips, uncharacteristically silent. He’s looking at her and for the first time in a long time she can’t discern what the expression on his face is meant to convey. The furrowed brows, the softness there coupled with the grief inching its way back in. Maybe the girls in London don’t get this look from him — something so scarily synonymous with a raw wound that it has her wanting to stumble back.

Mending a wound is not something she knows how to do. She can only poke at its edges until it’s aggravated. Run her dirty hands along it until it’s infected and gone septic. That, she knows how to do — and he’s deserving of so much more than that. She doesn’t know if she regrets this yet, and maybe she’ll have that part sorted tomorrow.

She just knows that this is probably the last time it’ll ever happen and he’ll be better for it. Go through the rest of this knowing that the two of them have hit their ceiling — not because they wanted to, but because she’s just not equipped with the tools to help him break through it. Viv lets her arm fall from his shoulders, summoning the strength to stand on her own. She even goes through the effort of pushing one of those curls of his back into place and straightening out his tie so they’re both halfway decent.

“See you tomorrow,” is all Viv can manage now, as his grip loosens on her, too.

“Yeah,” he rasps, something tight in the way he agrees. He takes a step back.

She scurries off, further into the dark, nauseous over what could happen if he follows her this time.

[nvuy]

your writing style is a dream of mine, and the pacing & humor in your fics are some of the many reasons i decided to follow you !

i'm trying to write fanfics myself & potentially even run a writing blog! could you share a few writing tips?

you are so cute.

i’ll let you in on a secret: i started actually publishing my fics in 2020, but i since abandoned them because they’re embarrassing. however, here’s one as a starting point. i look back at it and cringe A LOT, but it was my foot in the door, and 15 year old me was very proud of it, so i didn’t want to straight up delete it.

i didn’t start out on tumblr because i get nervous being forced to interact with people because im a pretty abrupt person and i talk about the things that i like too much and im aware that can scare people away. it was about halfway thru writing old habits before i actually posted something. that was this and i posted it because i knew what little audience i had knew ME because i wrote a scaramouche fic. so. scaramouche content.

and because of the tumblr tagging system, people saw it, they liked it, and some people wanted more.

i then interacted with other writers slowly even though i was scared and frankly still am. you dont have to go around asking to be moots or spamming hearts left and right and putting their dicks in ur mouth, but being nice and having a scope around on what other people do on here helped me develop this ugly little blog i have.

i got really into hsr so i write a lot of hsr. i get a lot of people that ask if i could write more genshin impact, and i could, but at the end of the day, it’s my blog, and if i dont want to, i dont have to. i lost interest, so i dont really have to care about it, nor pay it any mind. do i still write it? sure! rarely, but i do. i don’t play wuwa anymore, but im down to write a piece or two if i get an idea, etc etc.

another thing is: don’t write in the hopes that you’ll post it on tumblr. same way i don’t think artists should draw just for the sake of posting. i have so much shit laying on various docs that won’t even be shown on this site, because it doesn’t need to be here. not because it’s bad, or it’s weird, but because i don’t have to post it, because it’s my blog.

the thing is you just be yourself and write whatever the fuck you want. i write horror & weird shit; my audience is probably well aware of that by now, and im not really worried to post anything super weird because its sort of what’s expected of me.

i know horror and romantic cannibalism connotations and yanderes and unsubtle sexy threats is not everyone’s thing, and that’s ok! they don’t have to like what i put out, and i don’t worry about it, because people who like your shit will interact, and people who don’t will not. and people that don’t like ur shit and still interact are losers. hit the block button & move on.

someone is always bound to like your works.

i guess the ‘funny’ comes from the fact that i try to write dialogue how real people would speak. in fictional context, someone like kaedehara kazuha could wax poetry for three hours without stuttering in game, but realistically, nobody can probably do that without pauses, stammers, messing up words, etc. so i try to incorporate a sense of realism into everything, even if it’s a fanfiction in a world where a small boy in white tights is a god and everyone gets tiny little orbs that give them magical elemental powers.

i remember that even though these characters are fictional, i write them as though they could potentially be real people that do things real people do: fidget, stutter, blush, try and be funny and fail, they have problems large or small, etc. you have to mould your personality and writing style to make these characters alive on what you put out—childe seems like a great husband on paper, but is he all that good when he has unchecked mental health problems and has violent outbursts and desires? think about it.

another thing: don’t doubt your skill and prowess, especially in comparing yourself to posts with like 10000+ notes. most of them are note farming bullshit anyway—and a lot of the reader community is more likely to click on porn fics than normal fics. its why the popular posts on the x reader tags are usually porn. it’s half the reason why confiteor is infinitely more popular that old habits when im pretty sure scaramouche is a bigger character on the popularity charts.

strictly nsfw blogs that people make i can guarantee you are a lot more popular than their main blogs.

which brings me to: dont hop on trends. don’t do it. youll burn yourself out. just write what you want. fuck everyone. do whatever the fuck you want. if porn is popular but you’re extremely sex-repulsed or not comfortable, don’t write it. dont write to please people; it’s your blog and your time you’re putting into to do what YOU like, and you’re sharing your work for FREE on a public platform. a lot of people can’t do that. there’s people that follow my blog that openly admit they don’t like yandere/horror/whatever content. am i going to change what i post because of these people? no. not my problem. don’t care. i don’t exist to please everyone, and neither do you. stick to what you like.

don’t write for fandoms you don’t give a shit about just because they’re popular. even if what you like has a small, non-existent fan base, i promise you’ll enjoy writing for that more than something that you’re creating for clicks. notes are nice, but again, you don’t have to post everything you create. half the joy in writing is rediscovering old shit you don’t remember writing for a fandom you actually like. it’s like a reward.

[ryuichirou]

Overblot Riddle X Floyd hcs? :)

Sorry for the late reply, Anon!

The idea of Overblot!Riddle with Floyd is super appealing visually(and I’d gladly draw them like this again at some point if I ever get to it…), but, like I already complained in one of our previous replies, I don’t have a lot of ideas for the Overblot!Boys for some reason. But still, here is a couple of thoughts and headcanons about how they could have interacted~ the fourth one is spicy.

Floyd would be more excited seeing Overblot!Riddle than he was when he saw Overblot!Azul, at least at first. Just the thought of his Goldfishie getting so pissed off that he lost control over himself entirely. His first instinct would probably be to try this Riddle in a fight, no matter how dangerous it is.

But at the same time, Floyd could be surprisingly serious sometimes, so his mood would probably be soured by the fact that this clearly isn’t quite his Goldfishie anymore, plus if they don’t stop him, he’ll probably never get to pester him and fight with him properly anymore. Of course, that’s only more reasons to attack Overblot!Riddle. Floyd could get quite pissed off himself actually lol

Riddle, however, would be super excited to finally smack Floyd across the face with actual power. He always feels helpless and powerless when he’s with Floyd, mostly because Floyd doesn’t listen to him and is an uncontrollable chaotic force that won’t stop bothering Riddle. So finally being powerful enough to get back at him, and to see Floyd so displeased and frankly annoyed, would probably make Riddle ecstatic. 

In fact, the idea that he is unstoppable with this new power and could do anything to Floyd (and also maybe because deep inside he’s hurt by the fact that Floyd doesn’t give him proper attention and just looks annoyed…) could easily lead to him trying to have sex with Floyd. Since Floyd is always flirty with him, gives him mixed messages and stuff, leaving Riddle confused and a bit, of course Riddle’s overly emotional reaction would be to pursue Floyd himself, to see how he likes it being in his shoes. Spoiler alert: not much, so they would have quite an aggressive intercourse with Floyd thrusting into Riddle aggressively at the same time as Riddle tries to take the lead in a reverse cowgirl position.

Out of every “character x overblot!character” couples I feel like these two are the most likely to overblot together, but it all depends on just how long Floyd’s battle with Riddle is going to last + if Floyd plays it smart or decides not to use his head. To be honest, I feel like Floyd would play it smart, plus he isn’t known for overusing his magic, buuuut! It’s still possible.

[cxs-workshops]

Heavily reconsidering doing anymore builder/oc warm up series and switching strictly to commissions. It has been brought to my attention that a certain discord server with certain mod(s) have gone behind my back, especially about my “incident”.

Now, do I continue to keep my head down and keep to myself bc I quite frankly can’t mentally nor physically can’t handle this kind of shit anymore? Or do I snap and air out my raging thoughts I’ve been keeping in for about half a year? Even more so considering that I survived and didnt plan to be.

The builder/oc warmups were suppose to be for fun, showcasing all the cool builders I come across, and I just wanted Quinlan to have some oc friends too at least. But because I’m not part of any fan servers on discord, I don’t exactly know who I’m have drawn for (even those who I thought I was cool enough with, but now we’re not I guess) that’s on me. There were so many more ocs I wanted to draw, but I’m just…tired, hurt. I keep taking hits left and right for reasons I genuinely don’t know (IK one reason but it’s literally not a big deal so many make it out to be). I know I try too hard to be liked, to make friends, but I think I need to accept that some things just can’t happen for me.

To those who have genuinely supported and stayed with me, I cannot thank you enough. I don’t know how to thank you enough. I enjoy reading silly and kind messages/tags, I appreciate them so much. I hope you can look forward to more drawings that I’m trying drown and distract myself in.

I’m on a slow recovery, I will be re-evaluating many things and I hope people who harass others for very minor (and fictional) things will too. Is that too much to expect? Maybe.

[mercillery]

I know almost NO ONE in the OP fandom cares about Akainu or the marines at that, but gosh, I’ve been so hyper-fixated on the admirals for way too long I HAVE to talk about them. I know absolutely no one who loves these justice freaks as much as I do, and I’m going to die in 5 seconds and make it the world’s problem if I don’t speak up about my love for them.

This post is going to talk about Akainu because currently he’s my number one. I don’t really know where I’m going with this, but for now I mostly just want to rant about him and the actor he was based off of—call it fun facts about Akainu or whatever. Frankly, I could see why so many people hate him—for killing a beloved character, right? I think that’s why almost everyone just utterly dislikes him, and that’s completely understandable. But I wish more people could talk about him because he’s a really interesting character to me. 

Warning there is no grammar in this because I’m currently writing this on a whim.

The actor Akainu is based on is Bunta Sugawara—which probably most people aren’t familiar with. The only reason I even found out about his existence was because of this.

And Oda was right to say that those still in school likely don’t know who the hell these actors are—because they were from a long time ago. Well, kind of. Not really—I don’t know. Yusaku Matsuda was born on September 21st 1949–Kunie Tanaka on November 23rd 1932—and Bunga Sugawara on August 16th 1933–what I’m trying to say here is that they were all somewhat born in close range years—if that make sense.

And yes, Bunta actually voiced Kamari from Spirited Away—there’s actually a video on YouTube showing Bunta doing his voice lines with Hayao Miyazaki and a few other people sitting in the back as Bunta does his thing. I unfortunately can’t find that video anymore but it was cute because when Bunta does a lot of hand gestures while reading his lines—it was amusing to watch.

Did you also know that Akainu’s real name, Sakazuki, is actually the name of a film Bunta played in? I have yet to watch the movie, but it’s about a young yakuza soldier (that soldier being Bunta) torn between staying in his current life or leaving his family when his boss refuses to follow their ancient code of ethics. I can say, though, that I have watched like two or three movies that Bunta played in (in fact I’m currently watching The Viper Brothers!!!). I’ve also watched a bunch of other trailers of films he plays in—and you know what I notice every single time?

Bunta always plays this short-tempered, stern, and violent character. Like, I mean ALWAYS. And you know what else? He’s always starring in Yakuza films—like almost all his movies have something to do with the Yakuza—which is ironic considering Oda made Akainu very dogmatic about justice, and obviously anything yakuza-related is far from justice. When you compare the characters Bunta plays as and Akainu, you can literally see how perfectly Oda blended the two. Like most of the characters Bunta plays, Akainu is also firm, stern, stoic, serious, dogmatic, short-tempered, and aggressive. The only drastic difference is how Akainu is all about justice—while the characters Bunta plays mostly have to do with just getting to power and the usual yakuza stuff, you know? If you look up Bunta Sugawara, you’ll get a bunch of trailers of all the different films he plays in, and you’ll see exactly what I mean.

Did you ALSO know that Bunta was aware that Akainu was based off of him? I’m not even joking. I did the biggest 😮 of my life when I found out.

When Bunta retired, he became a farmer. His farm sold chilli pepper and the brand logo for that was literally THIS:

Oda himself drew his hot pepper brand logo—no joke. It’s amazing because now I can’t stop thinking about another universe where One Piece just takes place in a modern AU and Sakazuki is just a guy selling chili pepper. Oda said the order to draw the chili pepper logo was actually made by Bunta’s wife. And if I’m not wrong, I believe Bunta even commented as a joke that he’ll use the logo as long as One Piece is popular. It’s even better when you realize it’s confirmed that Akainu’s favorite goods are white rice and HOT PEPPER.

Ugh, just imagine Akainu selling chili pepper instead of being such a single-minded justice freak of a man…

Anyway, thank you for coming to my ted talk. If you sent in a request, I’m working on it—TRUST. 😋

[pansy-picnics]

Hiya!

I’m curious, what do you think uknighted dream would argue about and how would they apologise to each other?

Cause I personally think Cass hates apologising, Eugene’s not used to it, and Rapunzel according to the show can do no wrong!

Oh, and if you don’t mind me asking, are you planning on updating Children of the moon soon? Sorry, it’s just one of my favourite fics for this ship!

Thank you x

God ive been so bad about that fic i swear i have so many ideas for it but this year has been SOOO busy for me 😭😭 most of my free time has been dedicated to drawing and playing games cuz writing doesn’t come as naturally to me ngl….BUT SOON ENOUGH I WILL LOCK IN I PROMISE!!!! its been crossing my mind a lot more recently snd ive started a little bit of the next chapter…Ur guys’ support means the world to me im so happy to know people enjoy it as much as i do 🥹 and i desperately wish i had more time to dedicate to all my projects

as for your first question though….LMAO yeah the show did rapunzel DIRTY….Honestly it really depends for me, but i think you’re definitely right about cass and eugene. and rapunzel definitely struggles i think to apologize Genuinely, because she can get really overwhelmed with her guilt and anxiety to the point that she loses sight of the actual problem. its kind of a rough spot for all of them

I honestly haven’t thought abt it a lot so idk if i know what they’d fight about Specifically, but what i can come up with off the top of my head is ummm

rapunzel is a chronic Fixer. whenever someone expresses a problem to her shes quicker to try and “solve” it than she is to just. Listen because she kind of has grown up with the idea that everything is Her fault and She needs to fix everything. I think cass and eugene can end up feeling really unheard because of this. Usually it’s just something they can quickly talk through but when put on top of other conflicts it exacerbates things a LOT.

Raps, cass and eugene can all be INCREDIBLY stubborn and set in their ways and they sometimes struggle to hear each other out. rapunzel i think has her moments, but generally she isn’t too bad about it; eugene has a temper and he can be VERY petty but i think unless he REALLY has a reason to hold a grudge against you, he usually just needs about a week to cool down- but Queen of Anxious Attachment Cassandra Tangled (tm) can end up going AGES holding a grudge and just refusing to check in with anyone. as you probably can imagine it does not go well

i think bc rapunzel has such a strong belief that love is transactional she sometimes gets trapped in a cycle where she basically attempts to min-max her time with eugene and cass respectively because she worries if she isn’t spending “equal” amounts of time with them then it means she must not love them enough. as you might imagine this causes a lot more harm than good….

cass is REALLY REALLY bad at asking for help and being vulnerable and especially admitting when someone does something that hurts her. i think this causes a LOT of really stupid miscommunications between them. eugene or rapunzel are both usually able to talk her through it depending on who shes upset at…and it really helps to have a third party there who she trusts because otherwise it could easily just spiral out of control and cause her to grow bitter and distant (As seen in canon LOL)

Ummm….To be completely honest i cant really see a lot of situations where cass and eugene like, Genuinely fight after they get with rapunzel. they obviously still bicker a lot but like, frankly after they’ve both figured their shit out i just don’t think they have much of a reason to fight anymore. Their whole rivalry has always been really childish and most of the more serious stressors have already been taken care of by the time the series ends. i think most of their fights are just over stupid shit and get resolved within the hour. i think they’d have to both go through a MAJOR traumatic event to actually get as bad as they were in season 1 again LMAOOO

How they apologize definitely depends a lot on the situation (go figure) but i genuinely dont think they get into Big fights very often…so when it does happen it takes a toll on all of them.

eugene i imagine is a little extra but sincere. doesn’t do Too much because he doesn’t want to overwhelm the girls, but probably just picks a quiet night and orders takeout or makes a small dinner to talk over. sometimes it can take eugene a while to realize when he’s fucked up but when he DOES realize it, it hits him like a TRUCK and he IMMEDIATELY jumps to do everything in his power to rectify it. he’s a big softie <3

cass is a lot more prideful than raps and eugene whether she realizes it or not, so its a lot harder for her to admit her faults, even when she knows she was wrong. she doesn’t like to make a big deal of when she apologizes because it’s really embarrassing for her. she’s the kind of person to send the apology text to the group chat and have to like physically put her phone down and start pacing around the room. To me.

rapunzel, like i said struggles to genuinely apologize because her anxiety and guilt can just become so overwhelming….she usually has to spend a bit of time away before shes ready to Really talk things out. When she is she definitely shows it quietly but clearly, she writes little notes with a paper bouquet and leaves them around where the other two will find them. they leave her little notes back and let her come to them when she’s ready.

admittedly i’m Not good with thinking of character conflicts off the top of my head, they have to come to me in Visions, and i just don’t end up thinking about a lot of ukd conflicts so hopefully this is okay LOL…..I would love to hear other ppls thoughts….. :3

[redwiccanrobin]

Dear Shameless (US) fandom,

I write this as a thank you. This past summer has been rather difficult and, frankly, I was sinking to the very bottom. There was no light in sight and I just came to accept that. I had no one to turn to, no one who would pay me any mind. I thought it was going to continue to get bad. So I created a distraction for myself.

I started talking about Shameless on here for no other reason other than I liked the show. I didn’t like expect anyone to really pay attention to what I was saying. Then, slowly, my posts began to gain traction. I wasn’t expecting it nor do I really pay that much attention to how I’m doing on social media as it can be very exhausting to do so. But I did take note which spurred me to talk more about it. Specifically of Ian and Mickey who I have the most passion towards. There was open dialogue being had as I continued to write, draw, and edit photos. People were encouraging me to engage with them whether that be through tags or a new writing challenge that came up this year.

For the first time in a long time, I felt included and wanted. Like you guys truly like what I have to say. Media analysis is a passion of mine that was burnt out a while ago. It was reignited with Shameless. But that’s not the point. It has been your guys’ kindness and positivity that has kept me going. I’ve felt more alone than I had in a long time and to see people who genuinely enjoy and anticipate what I’m posting gave me comfort. This fandom has become a safety net for me. This fandom has introduced me to people who are funny, sweet, and passionate. Yes, fandoms are quite toxic as a whole and I have had horrific experiences in them. However, I’m lucky to have not experienced this with you. Instead I’ve witnessed encouragement and positivity. I don’t feel so alone anymore.

[hyper-vigilante]

Confession of something that rots my brain /neg (read tags for CWs)

I want to be taken advantage of. Groomed, raped, assaulted. I know I don’t really want it. The thought terrifies me. But part of me craves it. Part of me thinks about it all the time. Part of me feels like I’d be willing to let it happen, make it happen even. It scares me to death knowing how susceptible I’d be to that sort of stuff. To manipulation and abuse.

As far as I know, I’ve never been actively sexually abused. But I think maybe I have been sort of passively. If that makes sense. My mother has always struggled with having proper boundaries. She’s always been too open with me about everything, she’s never had much of a problem with me knowing about stuff. I’ve had unsupervised internet access since I was maybe 6 or 7. I’ve known what sex was to some extent since probably between 3-5. I think I started (unknowingly) masturbating at around 7 too. I started puberty to some extent at probably around 8. I’d say I qualify as hypersexual frankly. I’ve been sexual, had sexual thoughts and feelings, had sexual attraction etc. from a very young age. I have a little sister that age. When I look at her, it hits me how young I was when that stuff started, and it’s honestly hard to wrap my head around. I could never imagine her being exposed to such things.

I feel like such a daddy issues stereotype. My mother has been emotionally abusive and far too open, she has dated many men since I’ve been a kid, so I’ve had many step fathers, all of which (except for the current one) has hurt me and my family in some way and then left. And however cliche it is, I’ve always been into older men. I’ve always wanted their attention, their approval, their care and guidance. When it was younger it was fairly normal. A bit premature maybe but not much else. But as I’ve gotten older, and more has happened, I’ve started coping by escaping into fantasies, often sexual, and over time they’ve just gotten darker and darker.

It’s some weird mix of intrusive thoughts and I guess some actual desire. I don’t know. I don’t want to want it, but I think part of me does. Indulging in the fantasies has made it worse, but it’s the only way I know to cope with it, because it started as pure fear and disgust and I couldn’t handle it. So I’ve desensitized myself to it. I’ve let myself make it more appealing. But understandably, that hasn’t been the healthiest thing for my psyche.

I fantasize about being taken advantage of by someone older, someone stronger. I feel like it’s a weird mix of actual needs not being met, self harm, and who knows what else. I see a lot of people find things like “age-play” or “nsfw age regression” to be problematic or even downright immoral and disgusting, and I get their reasonings for it, I do, but part of me feels like that sort of thing is the only way I could cope with this stuff without actively putting myself in danger.

I need that sort of dynamic. Maybe that’s unhealthy, I don’t know. I need to be taken care of and guided and protected. I need a father-like/parental-like figure to care for me. I need my needs met and my inner child healed and the sad part of it is that my sexual needs are intrinsically tied to that.

I don’t know, I’m not sure I have much else to say about it. It’s something that I’ve been growing more and more attached to for years now. I try to cope with drawing and writing and such but it’s not really helping anymore. It’s kind of making it worse. This is just something that has really been eating away at me, especially in the last year or so, and I don’t have anyone I can talk to about it.

[wormdolls]

Nail-Biter

I found an old story in my Google Docs from last year that I actually enjoyed re-reading. I might rewrite it one day but as of right now I'm not doing anything with it, so I figured I might as well post it here. I hope y'all enjoy!

I used to bite my nails.

Usually when I say this, people start to reassure me that they do so as well, and that it’s not anything to be ashamed of. What they don’t realise is this: when I say I used to bite them, what I really mean is I used to chew them down into pink stubs, tearing right into the quick, and nibble at the skin around them too. Frankly it’s incredible I didn’t get an infection from that old habit, but my fingers were always red and sore, with a tendency to bleed. But I kept biting. Whenever I was nervous, or agitated, or even just a little absentminded, my teeth would find my fingers and bite them until I physically couldn’t anymore. Then I would feel stupid and insecure for having such a shameful habit.

I used to joke about it, too. Whenever my more fashionable friends commented on their own nail polish, I would feel the need to bring up those little warped gravestones on my fingertips, as if by drawing attention to them they would become less of a burning point of inadequacy for me. I’d go even further and say I took pride in that rather ruinous part of my personality.

One day things changed—or more accurately, I forced the change upon myself. I went out and bought myself a tiny little bottle of black nail polish. That set me on a vague path to recovery, forcing me to consider whether it was worth wasting nail polish just for that momentary relief. It wasn’t an overnight change by any means, and I definitely chewed off more coats than I care to admit (and accidentally consumed more polish than can possibly be good for someone) but it gave my poor hands a chance to heal and made my nails much easier to look at in the process.

Months went by and my nails were now at a decent length for the first time in my life. It may sound trivial to some, but I felt good flaunting my progress, and they looked even better. I had even graduated to various other colours. It feels ironic that on the morning that changed I was painting them black once again. I was just finishing my pinkie finger when my phone rang, almost scaring me into smudging them. I answered knowing full well it would be my mum—nobody else would call when a single text would suffice. Sure enough, I heard the sour notes of her voice greet me. She sounded upset, and since I was unclear on whether I was the cause, I decided to treat her as one treats a landmine.

“Hi, mum.” My voice rose a few notes and I winced, blowing absently on my nails to dry them. “Is something up?”

“I’m just wondering,” I flinched at the accusatory tone—so I was the cause after all, though I’d be lying if I said I knew what I’d actually done, “Why exactly have you been lying to me.”

“Lying about what?” I said, but my mouth was dry and my chest was starting to fill with fear. I began to raise my hand to my mouth.

“Lying about your boyfriend. Or do you not remember? Come clean, Alice, I know you’ve not really been seeing him.”

“No mum,” I mumbled through my fingers, “I told you I stopped.”

I heard her irritable sigh through the phone and felt my ribs tighten. Mum always had liked my boyfriend much better than I had, enough that when we broke up she refused to listen to my reasons and instead insisted we still see each other. I may have told her, aeons ago, that Maybe We’d Try It Out Again, but I certainly hadn’t told her I was seeing him nowadays. She continued to sink her talons of disappointment into my brain with her next words.

“I don’t know why you didn’t stay with him. He was the best you’re ever going to get.” These words made my sore eyes overflow, and I started to sniffle. I don’t remember the rest of that dismal conversation. In all honesty I was just trying to get off the phone as fast as I could, but what I do remember is that when I did put the phone down, I realised that my hand was now free of polish and that my fingertips looked red and wet with spit. I almost howled in outrage—it was just like that woman to take my one good accomplishment and turn it against me.

In the next few weeks, I tried everything to set myself back to rights, but it was all for nought. As my mother’s words played on repeat in my head, my mood sank lower and lower, and my nails seemed to get shorter and shorter. My fingertips started bleeding again. I stopped wanting to show them off.

It all culminated in one particular night. It was raining outside and instead of being out with friends, I was just staring at the wall of my bedroom and biting relentlessly on what remained of my fingers. I could feel the warmth of blood trickling down my hand as I tore into my flesh but I couldn’t stop. My face was numb. Everything was numb, all sensation centred on my hands, as I ripped into them like a starved animal. My breathing sounded weird. My eyes were tearing up. The sensations intensified and I started to pant, sweat dripping down my face. And then…I wrapped my hands around the first bottle of nail polish I could find, and stared at it hatefully. If I hadn’t started painting my nails, I wouldn’t have had the fragile illusion of recovery, and I wouldn’t be stuck in this rut now, feeling so weak and helpless and…and…

Crash.

I don’t allow myself to be around my nail polish anymore. I scrubbed for weeks, but the neon green is never coming out of that wallpaper. I don’t really care anymore though. My fingers are worse than ever and I’m pretty sure one of them is swelling up, but I don’t care about that either.

I just can’t stop biting my nails.

[perdvivly]

Can you post about Buddhism?

Anything for the birthday boy <3

I have an aspect of perhaps neurotic reticence when talking about particular religious or spiritual practices. I see the conversations had go wrong often enough to have developed a special distaste for them. Wittgenstein takes special care in his lectures on religious belief to note that it seems like nonsense to say you contradict the religious believer when they ask you "do you believe there will be a judgement day?" and you say "I do not believe there will be any such day" this is an attitude I wish more people would adopt.

But, to Buddhism-- There are a few things of particualr interest. But I should note, on a personal level, I know a fair amount about Buddhism, I've spoken with plenty of Buddhists, I've read Buddhist scriptures, I've attended Buddhist lectures and seminars, I've spent time in temples, but ultimately, I am not a Buddhist. I fundmanetally disagree with some Buddhist teachings. And I can say more about that, but I don't think it's as interesting. I'm mentioning it now so you know I'm coming in biased.

There's a claim that “some sects [sic] of Buddhism believe that between the choice of heaven and hell you should pick hell because that’s where the people who need your help are” and I get where that’s coming from, it’s certainly poetic, but it’s not a meaningfully accurate claim, I think.

It's referencing the idea of bodhisattvahood. But, when they’re talking about sects, they're talking about Mahayana. The ideas concerning earthly delight in Mahayana Buddhism are frankly much less hellish than other conceptions of Buddhist thought. And, said other conceptions of Buddhist thought care less about the attainment of bodhisattvahood.

Of course, religious belief is not monolithic. There probably are people out there who believe this, in exactly this way, presicely because it is in line with their religious commitments. But those people don't make up any sort of majority Buddhist demographic. It's not "mainline" Buddhism. However:

If you meet the Buddha on the road, kill him.

Something that seems like a particularly Abrahamic mistake to me is the deification of some particular apotheotic set of beliefs "Christian beliefs" in Christianity, for example. Because these beliefs aren't objects in a belief-structure anymore, they become structure orienting almost. I've described this elsewhere as the belief in God being a bottom-up belief rather than a top-down belief. But they are still attained beliefs. They describe object-level features of reality. And if you take this very seriously, as a Christian, you start to care what Jesus believed.

And that seems... Well, I get that to a Christian this is a feature, not a bug, but it feels very buggy to me (an outsider). If I say, "I am a Christian, and so I believe what Jesus believes" What are we to make of that? It looks like, "I am a Christian" describes some set of beliefs, but they're saying, that if Jesus believed otherwise, then they would believe otherwise. Do they hold to the ideals of Christianity as expressed, or to the divinity of Jesus as God made man? There's a tension here. And they will say things like, "Well this is solved by Jesus being God. God is omniscient. God is all good. Jesus literally could not have believed or said anything differently and still been Jesus." Which I think underestimates the tension at play. I would draw it out further but, this post is about Buddhism not Christianity so it'll have to take a back-seat for now.

So, the reason I say this mistake is Abrahamic is because it's a very non-buddhist way of looking at things. There is no deified set of beliefs in Buddhism. Perhaps in Vajrayana the apotheotic object is the practitioner--but I digress. One of the great strengths of Buddhism is that most Buddhists don’t care too much about what the historical Buddha actually said.

They’re much less concerned about the Buddha's religion than they are with their own. The kind of mistake that Christians make is that they say, “I’m a Christian! Now let me figure out what that means I believe. Now I know I’m a Christian, I should read what Jesus says, and it really matters what he said because those are the things I will believe” whereas Buddhists more tend to say “I’m a Buddhist! That’s because I believe the things that this mytho-historical figure said. If he actually said something different to that, it doesn’t matter because those aren’t the things I believe” which, I think, makes the survivorship of those ideas and beliefs far more interesting.

-------

Putting Mahayana in the corner for a moment to focus on Theravadan Buddhism. The claims that a Vipassana practitioner will make[*] are entirely empirical claims.

They claim a landscape of mind and attention and focus which is available to anyone who practices and the neuroscentific literature backs them up on the benefits of a consistent medtitation practice. That's not nothing.

*I should note that this is only dubiously true. Their talk about Samadhi will be empirical. And they will empirically flavour talk about Sila (depending on how empirical you think the field of psychology is) but which things they consider ethical misconduct will (perhaps necessarily) involve digressions into the metaphysical.

And because it's pride month I feel extra compelled to say - fuck those monks. Buddhists, like Christians, have a dogshit record when it comes to sexual ethics. Be gay, do crimes, when you see the buddha on the road, fuck him. etc. etc.

[pinkeebwui]

15 questions for 15 tags ~

Tagged by @figthefruitfaeth, who is the only one to keep me in ask game content www (not that I can tag you without looking up my notifs rn…….)

1. Are you named after anyone?

One of my middle names is after my mom’s great-grandmother.

2. When was the last time you cried?

I don’t know specifically but probably early this month; the holidays were giving me a hard time and I was missing home a lot.

3. Do you have kids?

Who tf do you think I am?? the tumbkr population is aging but not that much!! And, in this economy??

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

My family runs on it, so yes.

5. What’s the first thing you notice about people?

Now I’m being asked about it? Idk. Probably hair or maybe scent (especially perfume/cologne - I’m sensitive to scent and don’t like them).

6. What’s your eye color?

Depends on the light, usually like, pale blue.

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

Happy endings. Scary movies are too much for me, I find them unpleasant overall. And just because you have a happy ending doesn’t mean you don’t have tragedy and hardship before it, that’s what makes it worth finishing.

8. Any special talents?

I’m pretty good with animals and babies, apparently, but other than that idk. I can cross my eyes? Lol

9. Where were you born?

USA, the land of 20oz boba, real lemonade, and barbecue

10. What are you hobbies

I have a lot of them, but I haven’t been able to get to my creative ones much. I collect kpop stuff (Hinged), I draw sometimes, embroider, paint, etc. I read when I have time. I also like trying new desserts at the convenience store. And I’ve considered picking up calligraphy recently, I need to inquire about the classes though.

11. Do you have any pets

Not of my own; my family has like. A small zoo. Ten? Cats, dogs, and some budgies we ended up with because they were lost and unclaimed at the shelter and we have a little experience with birds. Oh, and am ancient, belligerent Pygmy goat.

12. Have you ever played/do you play any sports?

I swam competitively year-round when I was a kid for probably over ten years; not super talented or anything like my friends who’ve gone to trials, but because it was fun. I stopped mostly around late middle school, did a final two summer leagues, then quit for good. I also used to dance (11 years, 10 of them ballet) casually. And I had started a volleyball class right at the start of the pandemic then couldn’t finish it for obvious reasons. I’d love to pick up archery again, or kyuudo specifically.

13. How tall are you

5’7” or thereabouts, I get a different number every time a nurse who’s shorter than me measures 🤷🏼

14. Favorite subject in school

English and history, I always really enjoyed history as a kid and through high school, and then grew into my love of English later on as I grew into an interest in writing as well as reading. Monkey read, monkey do. I also really enjoyed art, particularly in high school. I took all the offered classes and then did an independent study and was kind of the one art teacher’s… mot favorite, but something close to it.

15. Dream job

I don’t know, frankly. Doing whatever I want and getting paid to do it? Like, whatever strikes my mood as I feel like it, be it writing, editing, something like library clerking and potentially programming, something creative with a more physically tangible product, teaching. The flexibility to live and also hop around. I used to think it was writing, but I don’t think I’d like writing anymore if it were my main source of income.

I’m not tagging 15 people but @willthewhompingwillow @polliniaa @taebaelee @infernalfae @something-wild-cat if you feel so inclined

[satansleftnutcheek]

Hi animation student here o/

I’d argue that we wouldn’t call it anything different! 3D animation is still 3D just as much as 2D is 2D, the only difference is this rise in stylized 3D. 3D animation is in an experimental phase now that photo realism isn’t the standard anymore. Both forms of animation have always been intertwined due to one making up for the “weaknesses” of the other! Further explanation on this is provided under the cut :D

TLDR: I, personally, would not consider this rise in “2.5D” a new form of animation. Rather it’s a rise in two mediums using the “advantages” of the other to best suit the needs of the production

Before I begin, I would like to state that with infinite time and infinite money neither method of animation is superior to the other. Unfortunately, productions have neither causing both mediums to have “strengths” and “weaknesses”. A “strength” would be something that saves the production time and/or money while a “weaknesses” is something that does the opposite. The governing forces of any production will always be the deadlines and budget.

Now to explain what I stated above the cut. The major “strength” of 3D is its consistency in volume and depth. Unlike 2D, you don’t have to make sure that the character you’re working with is on model (correctly proportioned). This is why for complex camera movements it’s rather common for animators to create a rough 3D mock up and use that for reference! A great example of this is the Freak of The Week music video which was made by Fortiche (same studio that made Arcane)! Behind the scenes is linked below:

Another reason why a 2D work might use 3D to its advantage is for complex subjects. This is why you’ll often see cars and complex machinery be 3D models instead! These subjects can be very time consuming to animate (and frankly are a bitch and a half to draw) so to meet deadlines they’ll be modeled instead. Don’t have to worry about drawing the car wrong when you essentially have a digital toy car to work with. Legend of Korra, The Drill episode from Avatar the Last Airbender, and Iron Giant are all examples of this:

Now 3D’s biggest “weakness” is how time consuming modeling can be. This is why crowd shots will sometimes feature 2D characters, duplicate models to fill the space, or in the case of the early volumes of RWBY 3D silhouettes. Examples from RWBY and Beaststars are provided below:

It might also be the reason why some of the backgrounds in Arcane are hand drawn. You don’t notice it because of the style of the show, but unless the camera’s going crazy or the character is interacting with an object, assume that the background is 2D. This one is more speculation as I’m still learning 3D!

And for even more speculation, the reason as to why you’ll see 2D effects used in 3D works might be because of the time it takes for the computer to simulate it. You’ve got to tell the program you’re using what to do, how to do it, and then keep fiddling with it till you get what you want. This could be even more time consuming if the production is stylized. Sometimes it’s just easier and faster to draw what you want rather than tell a computer what you want. Examples below are from RWBY and Arcane:

This is why I wouldn’t consider this “flavor of animation” something new. It’s always existed, it’s just being utilized more now that 3D isn’t expected to be photorealistic. Animators are getting experimental and I’m having a blast watching it develop!

I will always love and cherish hand-drawn 2D animation which is pretty much defunct now (at least from Disney and Dreamworks)

But I’ve noticed a rise in this flavor of animation since The Dragon Prince (maybe earlier!) that’s somewhere between computer and hand drawn and 3D, and I really, REALLY love it but my question is what do we call it??

[je-suis-un-fardeau]

.

fuck trying not to be angry. i’m allowed to be angry. you don’t get to sit there and act like i’m being unreasonable for not wanting you to hang out with someone who scares you so much that you keep me on the phone when they come over. you don’t get to act like i’m being unreasonable for being both scared and pissed that you willingly got in a car with them. i’m allowed to be angry that you apparently have no sense of self preservation — demonstrated not only by this, but also by that little impulse trip you took to new york to meet a total fucking stranger after you already promised to come see me that weekend. i’m allowed to be mad about that too. that i’m so low on your list of priorities that you would rather spend one of our only free weekends with someone you’ve never fucking met. i’m allowed to be mad that you spent all of your energy being reckless, and then spending money you don’t have to do a hobby that stresses you out with people you don’t like, and had to cancel on me a second time. i’m allowed to be upset that i was already so on edge in the first place, because we’ve created a relationship where i don’t feel like i’m supposed to share negative things with you, because i’m the one taking care of you, so i end up shouldering both of our emotions in silence. i’m allowed to be upset that everything going on in my “real” life is driving me to feel suicidal again and all i wanted was to see you, and i planned an entire weekend around you twice, and thinking about seeing you was the only thing keeping me from completely losing it, and i was so stressed and so scared and in so much pain and i haven’t been sober in weeks because i can’t stand the way it feels, but all i wanted was to see you. i didn’t want to talk about it or burden you with it or make you feel bad for me… i just wanted to hold you. i would never be angry at you for being tired or for taking care of yourself. you know that. i know you do. but the reason why you were tired made me feel like absolute shit. like i didn’t matter to you anymore. and on top of everything else, i just couldn’t handle it. i split HARD and i needed to disengage before i said or did something i wouldn’t be able to forgive myself for. could i have i expressed this better than i did? yes. but i’m allowed to be angry at you telling me that it “left a bad taste in your mouth” and felt “hostile”, because that was the kindest option i had in that moment. i am trying SO hard not to let my bpd control this relationship, and it may not seem that way to you, but i am so fucking proud of myself for all the times i was tempted to be toxic or impulsive but i didn’t, and you were never the wiser. can you imagine being so proud of yourself for something and thinking you’re doing so good, comparatively speaking, and then the one person whose opinion you actually care about comes around and reduces you not to just any negative stereotype, but to the one you are most afraid of becoming. you then tell me that you need some space, because i’m just “extra tension” that you don’t want right now — once again prioritizing something you don’t even seem to enjoy over me. throwing me aside like i’m a toy you got bored of. i’m allowed to be angry about that too. and i’m sure as hell allowed to be angry about what i saw when i went to check up on you today. it’s funny really. i was just thinking earlier about how i was going to draw this boundary without making it seem like ultimatum… “if **** is in the picture again, then i can’t be.” because this would only become a vicious cycle that wouldn’t benefit anyone. imagine my surprise, though, when i see who you’re talking to on twitter. i’m probably going to deactivate mine now because i do not feel comfortable, or quite frankly safe, having them in that space. it feels violating. i cannot even begin to express how… desperate? anguished? terrified? i am right now, and the part that makes me the saddest is the fact that i’m not sure if this is even affecting you at all.